Unspoken
by Jawsome
Summary: 100 Drabbles, 100 Days.
1. Fear

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling

A.N. This is going to be a drabble series. 100 drabbles, 100 days. All Tom/Ginny, just Ginny or just Tom. Hope you enjoy! :)

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><p>Ginevra Molly Weasley scared him. Yes, a girl of merely eleven years with garish red hair and too many freckles scared <em>him.<em> Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, _The_ Dark Lord. She poured her soul into him and in return he fed her the lies she wanted to hear. Yet somewhere along the way he gave her a part of his soul as well and that frightened Tom more then anything. How could he have made such a foolish mistake? Opening up, even just a bit, to her? It was such an idiotic move that the dark haired teenager could never take back.

As the days began to blur together he found himself craving her words. Perhaps it was the seclusion speaking on his behalf but why? He never relied on anyone for anything. He was _always _in control. So why was this different? Regret pulsed through his veins but he lived off the fact she would die in the end and he would regain his control. She scared him but Tom chose to ignore it. It was just a juvenile habit he picked up from Ginevra.

But what scared Tom the most was she could make him feel.


	2. Love

Love was something that always surrounded Ginny. At home she had her brothers and parents and at school, her friends. Dumbledore preached it and it was something she always knew.

Love was foreign to Tom. Growing up it was just a word that was carelessly thrown around, no real meaning because there is _no_ love.

Two ideologies, two different people, two different worlds, crashed together because of little, blank book. They taught each other things, something that they would have never had learned without the other. Tom taught her that the world is a cold place, flawed with darkness and hate while Ginny taught him that it was a place of great warmth, something that is so brilliantly perfect and innocent.

Only one would grow to believe the other.

And Ginny, she learned that love never existed.


	3. Innocence

1943 was not a good year. It marked the death of so many in World War Two and it marked the death of an innocence in Tom Riddle that he was sure never existed. Grindelwald had fallen from grace and Tom knew it was time to act. He wouldn't get a second chance.

Little Hangleton was a surprisingly peaceful place, the air crisp as the soft sound of rain hitting the ground was heard. It make Tom sick. His Uncle Morfin was a sorry excuse for an Heir of Slytherin, overgrown and physically comparable to a barbarian, long dark brown hair falling into his grime filled face. The only use he had was taking the blame. Oh, it was perfect.

His grandparents didn't even see it coming, a flash of green and the light left their pathetic Muggle eyes. Tom Riddle Sr. was a different matter though. His father knelt in front of him, begging for his for his life. Tom Riddle Jr. showed him no mercy. He didn't show mercy for his mother did he? A part of Tom died that chilly July night, something he thought he always lacked.

Everyone is born innocent, but he was always an exception.


	4. Tainted

The first time Ginny Weasley liked a boy was when she was five years old. He was a Muggle boy from the next town over with short brown hair and eyes.

The second boy she liked was Harry Potter when she was ten. Upon seeing his infamous scar she was immediately star struck. His messy black hair and bright emerald green eyes never failed to make her go weak in the knees. He never paid her any mind until her 5th year when she so conveniently hit puberty but she didn't care.

The fourth boy she had liked was Michael Corner when she was 13 years old. Micheal was no Harry or _him _but he was nice and sweet with a beautiful head of chestnut hair. They eventually grew tired of each other, Michael leaving her for Cho and Ginny leaving for Dean.

The fifth boy she liked was Dean Thomas when she was 14 years old. Dean was what every girl dreamed of. Sweet, handsome, caring and funny. Ginny knew he wasn't for her though. She was just pulling the older boy along by a string. She didn't want sweet, caring and funny. No, she wanted someone else.

The third boy Ginevra Molly Weasley liked was when she was 11. He was everything her little mind could ever want. But he tainted her, ruined her for any other man for the rest of her life, unbeknownst to her. Every time she looked into warm green eyes she only saw cold blue. Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle tainted her, painting her pretty soul black.

And she was content with that.


	5. Blue

Much to contrary belief, neither gold nor red was her favourite colour. No, it had been green for as long as she could remember. Even as a small child when her mother would buy fabrics for her clothes she would always beg her to buy green.

She was attracted to Harry Potter the first time she noticed his eyes. They were the most brilliant shade of green she had ever seen. It was simply beautiful.

During her sorting Ginevra Weasley secretly longed to be placed in Slytherin, even just to wear their beautiful house colour but Ginny knew better. If she was sorted into Slytherin her family would be sure to alienate her. The sorting hat had also pushed her to choose her secret desire as well but she chose Gryffindor. It was what she was expected to be in.

The diary was her scapegoat, her one sense of sanity in all the craziness of Hogwarts. Tom was her best friend. The other girls in her house didn't like Ginny. She was too quiet and secluded to be a proper Gryffindor. Looking back it was all rather silly.

When she saw Tom for the first time, for those split few second before she slipped into unconsciousness she saw only one thing, his eyes.

Ginevra Weasley's favourite colour has been blue ever since.


	6. Snow

The snow always irked Tom. It was cold, wet and there was far to much of it in England. If there was one thing he wish he could rid of forever minus the obvious, it was snow.

Ginny on the other hand, loved the snow. It felt brilliant against her creamy skin. The rush of adrenaline brought on by it's cold touch was exhilarating. Sometimes she wished it was winter all year round, just so it would never leave. Her brother's thought she was odd, running outside on the first snowfall to catch the heavy snowflakes on her tongue but it made her happy.

Valentine's day of 1992 brought on the biggest blizzard Hogwart's has ever seen. After running into the empty first year's dorm room to escape the shame of having Draco Malfoy tauntingly read her stupid Valentine to Harry, she pulled out her diary. Why did she have to send it in the first place? Because Tom told her to.

Tom's words were law for her. What he said, she did. On that particular day he made the slip-up of revealing his dislike of snow. Needless to say, even at sixteen, Ginny had yet to go back outside to catch snowflakes.


	7. Scars

Thin silver lines decorated his body from years of violence. Growing up in an orphanage in the 1930's was not a pleasant place. He wore them as a badge of pride though, showing how he had overcome and conquered so much.

His female counterpart on the other hand was quite the opposite. Her pale skin completely flawless from the use of multiple creams and potions to remove any form of the dreaded marks. Perfection was a large part of Ginny's life and such things couldn't ruin that.

What many didn't see, or chose to ignore, were the open wounds on the inside. The war made them shells of their former selves. In a world where pain was a daily occurrence it was nothing new. A fact of life if you will.

Sometimes scars are unavoidable.


	8. Regret

Regret was something Tom had never felt in his life. He didn't regret opening the Chamber nor did he regret the death of Myrtle. In fact, he was proud of it all. Every form of cruelty he had preformed over the years had no affect on his persona.

Tom had done unimaginable things. The blue eyed man had raped, murdered and tortured countless people, men, women and children, and never had an ounce of guilt creep up on him. He was invincible. Untouchable by mediocre things such as _regret._ He was powerful.

But... he had one weakness, _her._ _She _was the only living thing on this planet that could make him feel anything but anger and hate. And he despised her for it.

If there had to be one thing Tom regretted in his life, it would be meeting Ginevra.


	9. Midnight

It was little known but Ginny's favourite time of the day was midnight. The feeling of the hard day before her washing away into a new one was simply glorious, watching the nightmares of yesterday be forgotten. It was always a sad moment when the clock struck 12:01.

Turning to look at the man who lay beside her she allowed herself a slight smile. He looked so young and soft in his sleep, a far cry from his true personality. Noting his appearance she giggled, his silky black hair lay on his forehead in disarray, so unusual compared to it's normally groomed perfection.

Tom carefully cracked open his left eye, a soft smirk gracing his full lips as he watched his beautiful pet watch him. She never seemed to notice his gaze every time.

"It's not polite to stare Ginevra," he chuckled causing her to blush a pale pink.

She looked at him bashfully and toyed with the hem of her silk nightdress, "I wasn't staring."

Sitting up to match his petite red head, he pulled her against his bare chest, resting his chin on top of her head. He chose to change the subject to remind her that this isn't a dream, "It's midnight."

Ginevra smiled sadly as she leaned against her captor, "I know."


	10. Sick

He came to her in the dead of night, the moonlight playing tricks on her heavy eyes. Lips brushed the cartilage of her ear, whispering sweet nothings. Tom was always good at pretending.

A light caress here, a possessive touch there. It was a never ending game they played and she was just his pawn. Never in control. The sickest part was she grew to enjoy their battles. The way they toyed with each other until she gave up but they kept on fighting.

Crimson blood stained the floor as he roughly took her once more, his nails digging deeply into the flesh of her hips. A shriek escaped her ruby lips as he bit her neck, marking her as his own for the hundredth time but Ginevra couldn't bring herself to pull away.

She loved him in some way but she was never satisfied. He never hit her hard enough, never hissed cruel enough words into her head or fucked her as violently as she wished.

It was a sick, unbreakable cycle she caught herself in and she was never getting out.


	11. Forget

Molly Weasley always taught her daughter to be a forgiving person. Since the day young Ginevra was born she made sure she passed on all the lessons that Molly wasn't fortunate enough she have her own mother teach her.

It wasn't until Ginny's twelfth birthday when she realized something was wrong with her little girl. The events of the Chamber had since been brushed off and all had been well. Yet they were in the midst of a war. Perhaps it was her youngest son and his best friend that lead her to forget about her own daughter's demons but deep down she always knew it was just her ignorance.

Her baby, little Ginevra Molly Weasley now laid a thousand kilometers away, in a foreign house, forced to please the man who haunted her for so long.

As she buried her last remaining male child to rest, Molly wept. She made a huge mistake and her only daughter was paying the price.

She'd learn to forgive herself, but she'd never forget.


	12. Drowning

A.N. I'm going to Mexico on the 2nd so Updates from the to the 9th may not be consistent. I will make up for the days I don't update. Sorry about that. :P

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><p>Growing up in an orphanage, Tom never learned to swim as Mrs. Cole never felt it was necessary. The years flew by and he never even thought of it until meeting Ginevra.<p>

Ginny absolutely adored swimming. Her brothers hated it so it was even better. Living near a pond of fresh water her mum and dad taught her to swim there. She had spent many days just wading in the cool liquid.

When they met in person for the first time since the incident in her first year, it was at Ginny's little pool. Screaming and crying she was dragged from her home to Tom's, but not without a struggle.

They fought, scratching and clawing at each other and Ginny managed to push him into the deep end of the water. He struggled to get out but when he did, she paid greatly for it.

Ginny was drowning in the hell she was forced to call her life and there was no water in sight.


	13. Whole

Ever since she was a small child, she felt she was missing something. Looking at her parents relationship, so happy and wonderful, she couldn't help but wonder if anything was wrong with her. Why couldn't she be as blissful as them?

The first time she felt anything similar was when she first wrote in the diary. Tom listened and understood her so well! It made Ginny feel so wonderful and _whole._

On the other hand, Tom always felt somewhat empty as well. Nothing that he did, murder, steal, manipulate, _nothing_ filled the void. But then he came across little Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the million children the blood traitors had. She fascinated him. So innocent and clueless to the horrors of the world. And for once in his hate filled life, he felt something, unreadable but it was there.

They were each two halves of a whole, with hard, jagged edges. But they fit.


	14. Fire

Sooooooo sorry for my lack of updates, I haven't had internet access until now. I'll make up for all the days I didn't post when I come back home on Saturday (technically late Friday night) Thanks for your patience, enjoy! =D

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><p>One thing Tom had always admired in a person was fire. If they had fight, hate, any sort of extreme emotion in them, he instantly become less hesitant around them. No, it didn't mean that he hadn't killed or hurt anyone who fell into that category but he was less brutal. Why? Because he secretly wished he was like that.<p>

Growing up he had always known something was wrong with him. All the other children would laugh while playing, cry when hurt, and yell when mad, but Tom never did. He just couldn't feel... anything. Like a walking shell of those around him.

The first time he saw Ginevra he was instantly attracted to her. She had hair just like fire, a deep burning red. It was beautiful. And her Pureblood, something he longed for since he first learned of his heritage. Since the diary she had become quite the feisty little thing which had Tom completely over the moon after she was captured by his Death Eaters at age sixteen.

At first she hated him, but over the years she grew to accept the situation and loved their children dearly. The best thing about Ginevra though, she never lost her fire.


	15. Poison

**A.N.** Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper. Also, I'm back from Mexico! So expect a rapid amount of updates over the next few days. :)

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><p>It was wrong, he knew it, but she was just so <em>fucking<em> addicting. Everything about her, her dark red mane of hair, the way the cinnamon coloured freckles were just lightly scattered over her nose, and dear Salazar, her smooth skin against his was just perfect. Just one taste and he was hooked.

Tom knew it wasn't becoming of the bloody _Dark Lord _to be so dependent on a a measly little girl, not even twenty, but he couldn't help himself. He would do anything to get her to react to him, not just lay there like a cold fish. Even if he had to curse her, just to hear her scream his name.

Some days he hated himself for it, wanting her so badly, but other days, she was his salvation, saving him from the hell of controlling a bunch of idiots and managing a Kingdom. Even though she would do anything to leave him, just being in her presence comforted him. And eventually, he knew she would feel the same.

She was poison, running through his veins and he loved it.


	16. Silk

Over the years Ginny had grown to love the perks of living a life of luxury. When she was first forced to marry Tom Riddle she had hated it, picking every opportunity to pick a fight with the tall, dark haired man but soon she learned her place.

She supposed it wasn't so bad, her life. Tom didn't demand much of her, letting her roam the manor on her own, she was just told to warm his bed at night and bear his heirs. In return he spoiled her to no end, buying her the most expensive clothing, more diamonds and precious gems then she could ever want and anything that came to mind, in the snap of his fingers, was hers.

The thing she grew to appreciate the most though was silk. How smooth it felt against her skin, like butter. It was pure magic to the young redhead, how such vile creatures such as worms could produce such a marvelous thing.

Her husband stood smirking at his wife from the corner of the large master bedroom, watching her admire another dress he had just brought home for her. Ginevra was horribly materialistic, growing up in a home where she was lucky if she ever received anything new. Yes, Tom thought as she smiled at him, he was rather fond of silk.


	17. Mirrors

_Crash! _The sound of breaking glass rang throughout the Burrow on the cold, early Tuesday morning. The sun had yet to rise but the only member left in the home was wide awake. Ron Weasley looked in the mirror desperately, his eyes wild and unseeing, deep purple bags beneath them.

The world had gone to shit, the twins, Percy, Charlie and Hermione are dead, Harry has been missing for the past five months, his parents were in Azkaban, Bill was god knows where and Ginny was with _him. _His baby sister, the only person he had ever vowed to guard was his life had been taken in the blink of an eye and he could do nothing to save her.

Blood dripped from his hand, cut deeply from broken glass, but he could care less. How had he failed her? There had been so god damn many of them and he just stood there, petrified, as Lucius Malfoy and _he _had grabbed her.

The memory of her desperate pleas for help haunted his mind while he stood alone in the worn down house, once filled with so much joy and happiness. Tears silently streamed down his face as he was horribly reminded that he had done nothing, that Ginny was now the Dark Lord's whore because he was a coward.

Another loud crash could be heard as Ronald Weasley destroyed the last mirror left in the home.


	18. Hate

Being a Gryffindor, Ginny had spent her life always trying to be friendly and nice to everyone. A generally nice person. But after her first year and the experience in the chamber, another darker, more intense feeling began to breed within her. Hate.

Second year as well as her third were relatively normal. Well, as normal as can be with Sirius Black escaping Azkaban and the death of Cedric Diggory. But Ginny remained optimistic.

Fourth and fifth year brought a rapidly changing emotion within her. The events at the Ministry further scarred her delicate mind and then Harry, the boy she pined after for four _fucking _years had chosen then, right after she got over him, to see her as more then Ron's little sister. She despised it, despised him but it was expected of her to say yes, so she did. When he had broken up with her she was immensely relieved.

Sixth year was the beginning of the end for the youngest Weasley. Tom came back full force, back in his youthful body of now 21 years. He took her, forcing her to do things that even her darkened little mind could never even begin to imagine on her own.

Ginevra hated Tom Riddle, but there was always a very fine line between that and love.


	19. Scream

Her screams echoed throughout the large bedroom, Tom staring down at her in glee. Her loved it when she screamed.

Sometimes he could pretend she wanted him like he wanted her, that her screams were of pleasure. Deep down though, he almost preferred that she didn't like it. The power that surged through him as she cried for him to stop was an amazing high.

Ginevra sniffled as he released himself inside her, trying to focus on happy times. But Tom slapped her across the face, yelling for her to open her eyes. She hated him.

The wails of a young infant interrupted any further action, Tom sneering as he got off of her, pulling up his previously abandoned trousers. His child looked up at him with his large brown eyes, his black hair with a copper tint glittering in the light like a precious jewel.

He was perfect, yet not as perfect as his red haired pet's scream as the room glowed green. It could always be replaced.


	20. Help

Dedicated to Crystal Bluebell for her constant reviews. Thank you! =D

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><p>The laughter of a group of drunkards was heard even through the thick walls of the bedroom. Ginny curled up and put her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. Tom must have forgotten to cast a silencing charm, or perhaps he did on purpose. He loved to watch her squirm.<p>

"So where's that pretty red head of yours?" smirked a blonde Death, leering at the closed door where Ginevra resided.

Tom sneered at him, his blue eyes flashing dangerously causing the man to shrink back in his seat. It was well known that she was _his _property, off limits to everyone but himself. Especially now, as she is five months pregnant with his son. No one brought her up again.

Finally at two in the morning Tom's "friends" left. He stumbled into the bedroom, his breath reeking of Fire Whiskey. Staring at his wife lying on their bed he let himself smile for once, her growing stomach apparent beneath her thin nightgown. Tom fell asleep with his hand resting on her belly.

Staring out of the window, his hand resting on her, Ginny began to cry silently. Waiting for the help that she knew would never come.


	21. Fruit

Dedicated to Ellie. :) Even though you can't review because some bugger hacked your account. :P

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><p>Untouchable. That is what she was. Ginevra Molly Weasley was his forbidden fruit that he could look at but never touch. A blood traitor, Gryffindor and Potter's. Forever Potter's, never his.<p>

How was it even possible that he existed? The diary was destroyed, he had felt the searing pain of death. So was was he still wandering, aging, feeling? No one ever noticed him, not even Ginny but sometimes he knew she could feel his presence. Feel the ghostly caresses as she slept, feel his dark blue eyes watching her every movement, feel _everything._

She was good at pretending, oh so good. Faking a smile at Harry when he asked what was wrong, trying to ignore the soulless eyes burning holes into her. Every kiss her boyfriend planted on her, _he _was on her mind. It had been five _bloody_ years. Why could she not move on? Maybe she was sick. Maybe she had that Muggle disease, schizophrenia or something. Maybe she was crazy.

She tried to have sex with Harry, give up her virginity. Luna wasn't even one, having slept with Blaise a few weeks ago but she couldn't will herself to do so. She could feel Tom's anger radiating in the room. He was furious so she let him win, he always won, even if he didn't know it.

Tom thought she was his forbidden fruit, but she was already in the palm of his hand.


	22. Ink

**Bold- Ginny**

_Italics- Tom_

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><p><strong>Tom?<strong>

_Yes Ginevra?_

**Do you think I'll ever meet you? I'd really like to.**

_Perhaps one day my little Ginny, it is very lonesome all by myself in this book._

**How did you get in there anyway Tom? It's really weird that you're stuck in a diary.**

_That's a story for another day little one._

**But I want to know! Please, oh please Tom!**

_Not now Ginevra, when you're older. _

**Fine. You're a meanie.**

_It's not a story for little girls, I shall tell you when you're a little bit older. Good things come to those who wait you know._

**I'm not little! I'm in Hogwarts now and I'll be 12 in August! **

_Eleven and Twelve are still very young._

**Well how old are you Tom?**

_Sixteen._

**Only 5 years! **

_Yes, only five years._

**I want to meet you now. I don't like waiting. How long will it be?**

_Some day soon little one, some day soon._

**Good. You have no idea how bad I wanna see you.**

_I think I do Ginevra. I want to see you just as much as you want to see me._

**You're making me blush Tom! I like you a lot more then Harry, he still just calls me Ron's little sister. I hate it, I hate him. **

_I'm glad._

**Why?**

_Because you deserve someone better than him._

**Like you?**

_Maybe._

**I hope so Tom. I have to go to bed. I love you! **

_Goodnight Ginevra, sleep well._

**Night Tom! When we meet, we'll be together forever!**

_Forever._


	23. Angel

Hermione often talked about religion to Ginny, telling her about Church, God and worship. It seemed silly to her young mind, how someone could put so much faith into a man who may not even exist. The stories still fascinated her though, ones about angels the most.

They seemed to be so beautiful, pure and powerful, minus Lucifer of course. He was but the Devil in disguise. It was deeply disturbing how someone so beautiful could be so sick and horrible on the inside, tricking those around him to believe he was as good of heart as them.

As she grew she began to have nightmares of Tom once again, the first time since after the diary was destroyed. His hauntingly beautiful face set in a disgusting sneer, staring down at her as though she were a common plebeian. Hostility circulated in her veins as she recalled how he had fooled her into doing his bidding, nearly killing her. Such a beautiful being yet so ugly on the inside.

Tom was like Lucifer, not an angel, but merely the Devil in disguise.


	24. Reality

Ginny smiled as the waiter passed her another mango margarita, watching as Ron and Hermione had a splashing war in the water.

"Having fun?" Harry asked with a large grin on his face, his bright green eyes shining playfully.

Smiling, Ginny looked around at the tropical beach, her mum and dad caring for little Victoire as Bill and Fleur danced to the Latin music blaring from the bar. Charlie was having a heated discussion with Fred and George but their laughter broke the seriousness of it. Even Percy was there, scowling in the shade.

"Tons," she replied, giggling when Harry lifted her up from her reclined chair and started twirling her around.

_Ginevra_

The music faded away along with her family and Hermione.

_Ginevra_

Her smile slipped from her lips, the beach had disappeared too as Harry stopped spinning her.

_Ginevra_

Looking up at Harry she realized he was no longer there, green eyes replaced with fiery blue.

"Good morning Ginevra," said Tom with a cruel smirk on his face. In his arms lay a small child with jet black hair and shockingly cold brown eyes, their child.

This is her reality, this is her nightmare.


	25. Pleasure

**A.N.** The last of the double updates. All caught up. :( Oh but I'm a quarter way done now! Hurrah!

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><p>She hated herself, hated how she enjoyed what he did to her. Hated that she moaned in pleasure whenever he touched her in those oh so <em>wonderful<em> places.

It was all she known when it came to sex, the rough, angry, raw passion. Ginny was scared of anything else, she wasn't sure she could handle _making love_. The thought made her cringe, what a horribly sappy thing. Disgusting.

Don't get her wrong, she was no prude, but the thought of being so emotionally connected to someone was disturbing. Tom taught her never to trust anyone, never get too close, and that's as close as you can get to someone. Far too close for comfort.

But the way Tom made her feel, completely intoxicating. He knew exactly what to do. Ginny could never imagine anyone else being with her the way Tom is.

She was his, forever. But she didn't mind. She wouldn't trade the pain and pleasure for anything.


	26. Snake

It was no secret that Tom Riddle spoke to snakes. The only creature he ever let himself get close to. Many thought that the fact that he was a Parseltongue was the most frightening part of the infamous Dark Lord. Since the first recorded Parseltongue came to light, almost all magical creatures associated it with Dark Magic. Rightly so in Lord Voldemort's case.

No one really knew that Ginny could still speak a few words in the dreaded language. Sometimes she would wake up from night terrors, sweating and crying, whispering _open_ over and over again. She didn't understand why, why she was chosen. Why she couldn't just forget. Why she still missed him even though he tried to kill her. She had Luna now, Hermione was her friend too she supposed, but it was never the same. Nobody could ever understand and listen to her like Tom did. Ginny just wanted someone, _something_ to be there for her like he was.

And no one understood why Ginny bought a pet snake.


	27. String

They were gone, rotting in the ground, alongside the rest of the pathetic Order. Tom felt proud of himself, her screams of emotional pain bringing a smile to his face as she watched the light from her family members eyes leave, slowly drain out. The power that surged through him, the hold he had over her was such an incredible, _indescribable _feeling.

Yes, Tom knew Ginevra hated him with every fiber of her body but it didn't matter. He owned her, everything about her was _his. _Killing the remaining members of her blood traitor family just proved that further. He held her life within his hands and she had absolutely no control. He was pulling her on a string, his little toy. All _his._ Forever and always.

Ginny tried to sever that tie, endured countless punishments just to rid herself of him. But... it never worked. It never will. Tom Riddle had her tied to him with steel cables, strings that would never break no matter how hard she tried. And it would remain so for all eternity.


	28. Gone

**A.N.** Sorry for my lack of update yesterday, I'm posting two now though. Enjoy. :)

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><p>Over time it got easier, not seeing anyone she loved anymore. At first she screamed, she fought, she cried, but eventually acceptance grew. It wasn't good the stress, especially now. A fond smile grew on her lips as she placed her small hands on her burgeoning stomach. She had to think of her child now.<p>

Many would think she would despise the baby growing inside her. The product of rape. Its father a cold-blooded murderer, but Ginny knew it shouldn't suffer. Perhaps her mother's extreme love of children had rubbed off on her. Despite it all, she loved her unborn baby. She was young, still only of the tender age of sixteen, but if she had her way the child would grow up to _not_ follow in its father's footsteps. Become it's own person.

Tom was surprisingly happy when she announced her pregnancy. She thought he would want to rid of it, stealing from his legacy. Tom didn't like to share. He claimed her was happy that she was carrying his child, another reason she couldn't leave.

Ginny's old life was gone, a mere memory now. But she had to move on.


	29. Failure

The bright, burning green light that exploded from his wand was simply brilliant. When it hit the intended target, death occurring instantaneously, the overbearing emptiness he was forced to live with disappeared for just a few seconds. He felt powerful, untouchable, perfect, _happy._

Nothing felt as good as watching someone die at his hands. Tom was in control, always. Since a child he knew he was superior to the other pathetic children at the orphanage, better than everyone. He was Lord Voldemort after all.

They would beg, crying and pleading for him to change his mind, but it would never work. To give up would be to fail. And Tom Riddle never fails.


	30. Tomorrow

Yesterday. It was easy to focus on. Easier to think about then today or tomorrow because if she tried to focus on the good of the past, the pain of the future may disappear.

Her mum used to tell her '_Live in the moment Ginny.'_ but how could she? How could she live for every second when she didn't want to live? Life in Salazar Slytherin's castle... no, Lord Voldemort's Manor, was pure hell. Trapped in a luxurious prison that she would do anything to claw her way out of. It was no use of course, Tom would never let her go. She was bait, a plaything, his _property._

She had nothing to look forward to. Nothing but the agony of tomorrow.


	31. Landmine

**A.N**. Very OOC, I've been listening to far too much Billy Talent. :P

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><p>Rubies, emeralds, alexandrite, tanzanite, pearls. Tom would do anything, buy anything for her love.<p>

A vacation home along the turquoise beaches of Cancun, Mexico resulted in her breaking down into a screaming mess. Approximately 10,000 roses ranging in colour from red to orange were destroyed into a flurry of petals. The only remaining, untouched rose was blue. He knew what it meant, unattainable.

Cho Chang was dead, murdered by his hand. Ginevra never liked the older woman, so he thought if she was... gone, Ginny might like him more. That night she had tried to runaway again.

She was like a diamond on a landmine, if he didn't watch his step, she'd explode. But Ginny Weasley was the most beautiful jewel he had ever seen and Tom would step over a million bombs, do anything to get her to pay him any mind.


	32. Break

Countless glasses lay on the floor, ruined in a fit of anger. The once immaculate dining hall was now strewn with the shards, the result of another pointless fight. When Tom became fiercely enraged, things around him would break.

Some days it would be fine china, such as today. Other days it would be the death of a Death Eater, a Muggle Family or a once peaceful family home burned to the ground. It did not matter to Tom, as long as something was destroyed.

_Hold Strong,_ Ginny would think to herself. Most of the reasons why so many things ended up broken was because of her. Tom would want her to be a good little pet, smile and depend on him, never questioning what he does. Sometimes she would give into him, she didn't want another person's blood to be on her hands.

Tom would never understand though. Never realize that Ginny wasn't another one of his followers to be bent into submission. It was his fault really, teaching her never to give in. His form in the diary was quite the fool. But day after day he would try, try to take away the freedom she continues to desperately grasp at. It was a never ending cycle.

Ginny promised herself she wouldn't end up like the glass on the floor. She wouldn't let Tom break her.


	33. Violent

Perfect in every aspect. His little toy. She was battered and bruised but she never looked more beautiful. Her blood was his favourite though, watching the deep red _pure_ blood seep from a wound he inflicted was just magnificent.

Yes, she would scream, cry and beg but it was no use of course. Tom was merely trying to make her even more gorgeous. Why couldn't she just understand? He didn't want to hurt her, well... not always. It was just to bring out the perfection only he saw.

Pain was trivial. Her mind warped from her family into believing it was real. Pain doesn't exist, it's only a figment of the imagination. Endorphins were released every time 'pain' became present. Shouldn't she be thanking him for the high he gives her? Tom knows she enjoys it in a way, she just won't admit it.


	34. Marionette

Beat me, break me, love me, hate me,

Slap me across the face to make me see,

How beautiful I could truly be,

Twist me and turn me,

Put me in your control,

Infect me with your impure soul,

I'll give you my heart,

Only for it to be torn apart,

And poisoned by all that is dark,

Never let me go,

Make me forget,

I want to be your marionette.


	35. Empty

Staring at the crowd of hopeful followers, Tom smirked. Hopeless fools who have nothing left to lose, searching for the power that would never be theirs.

It was the same everyday. Nothing ever really changed. Some idiots would die trying to become the next Dark Lord, a few Order members would die in a pathetic attempt for equal rights. None of this affects him of course. A few lives lost for a great cause was necessary was it not?

Lucius Malfoy had failed him so his son was to pay, with death. He knew Draco would never succeed in killing the only man who ever saw him for who he really was. Lucius begged of course. It didn't make sense to Tom. It was just a child. It could be replaced. Yes, Lucius' wife was beyond child bearing age but he knew from his thoughts that he fantasized about younger witches. Disgusting really. He didn't need to have his lewd thoughts in his head. But Draco lived in the end so all was well he supposed.

Others when they became close to Tom would see the lack of emotion in him. He was empty really, hollow. But he didn't care. He was Tom Marvolo Riddle, The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. A God. Emptiness was just the price he would have to pay for power.


	36. Pretend

Children from across the world, throughout time, have always played games, pretended to be something, _somewhere_ they're not. Everyone in their life has tried to imagine being someone other than themselves. It was common knowledge.

Ginny was good at pretending. As a little girl, only age six, she would imagine being a famous Quidditch Player, the roar of the crowd below her screaming as she, Ginny Weasley, Chaser extraordinaire, scored another goal. The years passed, and so did her dreams. At ten she would pretend she was Harry Potter's girlfriend. They would get married, a beach wedding of course, and have five kids: Harry Junior, Brittany, Courtney, Josh and Crystal. They would all have red hair and green eyes except for Harry Junior. He would look just like his dad.

In her first year her mind created a much different scene. Harry disappeared, her future husband replaced with a picture of Tom. After she stole the diary back from Harry he had shown her a picture of himself. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. She would do anything to be with him. Ginny loved Tom.

But here she was, six years later, married and expecting her first, correction _his_ first heir, trying to pretend she was anywhere else then here.


	37. Weakness

Weakness was something you were never allowed to show. If _anyone _caught you emotionally open, you would be shamed, forced into exile. In the circle Tom was connected to, one slip up and you were as good as dead.

Tom was the master at hiding his emotions though. It was no real difficulty to him because he never really felt anything. It was both a gift and a curse. Watching those around him degrading themselves in those weak moments both annoyed and intrigued the man. He was lucky, not having to deal with such things but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if he was missing something. Was there a reward to being able to possess emotions without having to fake them?

Growing older had proved that it was more a gift then anything, at least in his opinion. It wasn't until his sixteen year old self was introduced to Ginevra Weasley. He began to notice a few changes. At first it was just a longing to have her talk to him, it was rather lonely being locked up in a diary for over forty years. Then it was annoyance with her babbling about Harry Potter. Soon it became want. He wanted to see her. She was beautiful, an angel in a child's body, but Harry destroyed the diary, killing him instantly.

Years passed and eventually he regained his youthful appearance. He took her, the only person who he ever felt _something _for. She was his weakness but he would never acknowledge it.


	38. Lost

The world was 510,072,000 km2 . Naturally an easy place to become lost. Yes, most of it was water but just the sheer area of our planet, it would be impossible to _not _find somewhere secluded.

She ran. Ran for hours, days, months... but he always found her. He thought of it as a game. A sick, never ending cycle of cat and mouse. The evil smirk that consistently adorned his unnaturally handsome face only grew when he found her, quivering in fear. Of course she had a right to fear him. The inevitable few days afterwards were always the worst. She had the scars on her thighs and hips to prove it.

Perhaps she was daft, trying to escape her destiny. Foolish if you will. Yet the second he turned his back, she was gone. One would expect he would would become furious at her childish attempts at freedom but he always loved a good game of hide and seek and he was the master. She could always run, but never hide.


	39. Mistake

**A.N.** Longer than my other previous drabbles. :P

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><p>The pitter-patter of frozen rain against a metal roof screamed in Merope Gaunt's ears. It just wouldn't let up. Only a few months ago she was safe in her warm flat with Tom. Tom. Oh how she missed him. The only love she ever had, left her for dead. Left her and his own child.<p>

It was idiotic of her to think he would ever really love someone as hideous and damaged as her. Morfin and her father had told her multiple times how worthless she is. They were right.

Pain rippled through her. The contractions were getting closer and stronger. It was getting to be too much to ignore.

Wandering out into the cold streets of London, Merope wrapped her tattered robes to her thin body, clutching her pregnant stomach. After what felt like hours to the young woman she stumbled up a large building, it's iron gates reading '_Wool's Orphanage_'.

A young, pale skinned girl only about Merope's age helped her inside as another painful contraction racked her body. Multiple women surrounded her, placing her upon a worn cot with worried expressions.

Minutes turned into hours, shrieks of pain echoing throughout the room. Merope let out a sob as she pushed one last time feeling the life draining out of her body along with her blood. "I hope he looks like his papa," she rasped, "I... I want to name him Tom, after his father and Marvolo after mine. And... and his surname, it... it will be Riddle."

The teenager who had helped her inside nodded her head and Merope smiled. Tom Marvolo Riddle will grow up to be a powerful man. The small, softly crying child was placed on her stomach, his cold blue eyes staring deeply into hers. A chill filled her as she took her last breath, looking at her baby, the lack of emotion in his little face haunting her. Merope Gaunt died with one thought ringing in her head. She had made a terrible mistake.


	40. Glass

The light hit the glass prism, colours decorating the dreary, grey walls, emphasizing the chipped paint, lost from years of abuse. It was rather amusing, Ginevra mused, how something as simple as a chunk of glass could create such a lightened mood in such a darkened world. Really it should not affect her in such a large way, that something as juvenile as a rainbow could wash away years of anguish for just a moment in time.

Perhaps it was because of the lack of hope she possessed that this little piece of glass which reminded her painfully of happy times was a life line of sorts. A scapegoat if you will. She used to be a generally optimistic person but the days, months, years eventually caught up to her. The faith she once held in life slowly seeped from her soul. The war creating a Dementor within herself.

It was almost time. She had been waiting for this moment for months now, since the imprisonment of her family, the death of Ron. Although Tom would deny it, she knew him, she knew he was always waiting, waiting for the moment she let her guard down to strike. Like a snake, infecting her with it's deadly poison, it's vicious bite. But she was ready, she had been since the Chamber.

Ginny smiled, staring longingly at the fading rainbow as the crash of Death Eaters invading the room overtook her.


	41. Laughter

Never in her life had she ever thought she would see the sight in front of her. If only the world could view what she is seeing, maybe they would not think he was such a monster. Wishful thinking of course, he was the definition of evil but he was still human.

Looking at his smooth, ever so slightly pointed facial features, high aristocratic cheekbones, full pink lips curved into the smallest of smiles and his blue eyes. His hypnotic, ice blue eyes alight in what could only be joy. His eyes only lit up when he was happy. The only flaw in his unfairly beautiful presence, a small scar just below his mouth, barely noticeable, from a fight with a boy in the orphanage was what Ginny focused on. Yes, he was still very much human.

She leaned back in the over-sized forest green chair, grinning as he handed a block towards their son, his long legs curled beneath him, crinkling his once perfectly pressed black trousers. It was a moment to cherish for she knew too well that tomorrow he would be back to his regular, hostile self. The only moments of tenderness he ever allowed himself was around their child. Only then would the ruthless tyrant wash away, revealing the man before her now.

Idris babbled, throwing the block back at his father, successfully hitting him in the shoulder. Fear spiked through Ginevra, she did not want him to hurt her little boy but instead Tom laughed, praising his son's violent nature. The dread of Idris growing up to be like his father was not lost to Ginny but she allowed herself to bask in the warm atmosphere. She had never heard Tom laugh before, deciding it was quite a magical sound. Quite magical indeed.


	42. Static

Ginny groaned in frustration as the Muggle Walkie-Talkie just released more static. It was all she had heard for the past hour and she was growing annoyed as well as worried. Where was Harry, Ron and Hermione? They were supposed to tell her when they arrived to the castle. Perhaps they forgot, or there were Death Eaters nearby. Or... they had been captured.

_'No, don't think like that,' _she scolded herself, '_They are fine.' _Maybe it was a stupid idea, attempting to invade Malfoy Manor where He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was hiding out. A suicide mission really, but Harry insisted, saying everyday they waited he grew stronger. The higher chance that the Dark Lord would succeed.

A crackle startled Ginny, quickly grabbing her Walkie-Talkie she desperately called into it. It was silent on her end for a few minutes before a scream of pain was heard. Hermione. Ginny felt a shot of fear.

"Hello Ginevra," a hauntingly familiar voice spoke. Chills ran down her spine as she turned to see Tom Riddle with the severed head of her brother Ron, the static from the Walkie-Talkie shouting in her ears.


	43. Testify

She coughed, a dribble of blood falling from the corner of her mouth. It was _his_ fault she was here, dying on the ground, _his_ fault she would never live to see her family again or grow up to see how her life could have been. Her dad had been right, "_Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain._"

It became harder to breathe, her vision blurring as well. She could hear him walking around, the clack of shoes on hard stone. The horrible sound pounding in her ears. Ginny just wanted to be back home, safe in the Burrow with her mom baking her cookies, the wonderfully intoxicating smell enveloping her. Her dad and brothers would be there too, even Charlie! They would all smile and laugh about the misadventures they had all gotten into over the years, just like they used to.

But... those days were lost now, just a figment of a broken dream. More blood oozed out slowly from her body, dripping softly on the ground. It was cold, so cold. She had tried to hold on, she tried so hard. But as the world faded out all she saw was Tom's cruel smile covering over her.

In a world where hate ruled, there would be nothing left to testify.


	44. Promise

Laughter rang through the dingy prison causing Ginny to flinch from the now foreign sound. Tears burned in her large brown eyes. How could something that surrounded her for so long now sound so wrong? She hated it, hated it, _hated it._ Ginny just wanted to go home.

"Up girly," a gruff voice spoke, opening up her cell door to pull her out. The bear of a man roughly dragged her to a washroom ordering her to clean up.

She looked in the mirror and sobbed, although being surprisingly well fed she had not showered or even washed her hands in what felt like weeks. She looked utterly disgusting. Even after standing in the boiling hot water for over an hour, the water was still stained a light brown from the deep grime. It took three hours to completely clean herself and dress in a light summer dress that had been placed out for her. Then man who had brought her there appeared as soon as she finished, once again forcing her alongside him to a large bedroom. Fear spiked through her.

The portly man chuckled and look over her lustfully, "Don't worry girl, I'm not gonna touch you. _He _would have my life if I tried."

Confusion replaced fear as he left. He? Just as she was about to call to ask him, the door opened, revealing a tall dark haired man. The fear was back.

"T... Tom?"

"Hello love," he smirked, his blue irises bright with amusement.

"No," Ginny whispered to herself. He couldn't be real, Harry killed him in the Chamber! She was there, albeit unconscious but she was there.

"I'm very much real my little Ginny, I'm simply here to claim what has always belonged to me."

She shook her head. No, this is all just a dream. She belonged to no one, she was not an object. But Tom's look of cruel happiness was replaced with dark anger. "You will be mine Ginevra."

It was not a threat, it was a promise.


	45. Bitter

It was simple really, over the years he grew to trust her in a way. After the birth of their first child he even let her wander the castle and its grounds. He grew blind, forgetting the circumstances that brought his sweet little pet here still haunted her, even ten years later. That the stinging hatred for him still burned bright in her darkened little heart.

It was better this way, she told herself. Yes, her kids wouldn't have a father but at least they wouldn't grow up around the monster they would if he stayed around. She had made plans, spending years coordinating with an undercover Order member on how to get to the safe house where her family were in. When the time finally came, everything was flawless.

She lured him into their bedroom, something that almost never failed when it came to her husband. Their young children already in the hands of the Order member, waiting to leave. While he was sleeping she grabbed his wand, beginning to murmur the two simple words that would end his life. But that's when things fell apart. He woke up.

He saw the wand in her hand and attempted to grab it, it was too late. As the light escaped his eyes she saw something, regret? Hate? Love?

She thought it would give her closure, but it only left a bitter taste in her mouth.


	46. Insanity

Eventually she lost focus in life. Never really tried to see the world around her. It became simpler just to ignore what surrounded her everyday. She never spoke much anymore, only muttering the necessary response as to not receive punishment.

Tom liked it at first, her giving up on fighting him. But as the days blurred into months he began to regret it. Nothing he did would bring the spark back in her eyes. All that was left of his precious Ginevra was merely a shade of her former self and he hated it. Hated himself for killing that light in her that attracted him to her in the first place.

It took months to destroy it, but after being beat until it hurt to breathe numerous times for her disobedience, that's when she started losing it. Losing the hold on her sanity. Everyday it was like being trapped in a prison cell, her own body. Occasionally she could feel something, a flicker of hate or even happiness, but as soon as it came, it was gone. She was Ginevra Weasley, she wasn't supposed to let anyone rip apart her soul. Especially not Tom.

He was almost sad when he saw her dead on the bathroom floor, surrounded by a pool of her own blood. Almost felt regret for stealing her mind. But there was no use in fretting over a lost cause.


	47. Corpse

Even in her current state she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Her pale, almost translucent skin with no colour, pale as a sheet was simply stunning. Her closed eyes, when they were open were such a stunning shade of brown. Dark yet bright, large and hypnotizing.

She lay completely still, a serene look on her face. Her red hair, mixed with coppers and browns, was fanned out on the black silk pillow sheet. Ginevra had always looked gorgeous against dark colours. Unlike most with such a fair complexion, they never washed her out.

He knew he should do something rather than stare, but he couldn't help himself. She was truly intoxicating to look at.

Yes, Ginny looked even more beautiful in death.


	48. Grace

Growing up in such a filthy environment took a lot of Tom but he always held himself together, stood tall while those around him crawled. He was a powerful man and he knew it. Ever since he could remember Tom was aware of the fact that he was better than everyone.

That was why he never played with the other kids. While they were playing in mud, acting like fools, he was perfecting himself, focusing on the simple things others seemed to forget. Posture, immaculate hair, closed off emotions, perfect smile and practiced speech.

He held himself with such a grace that no one else could match. Tom wrote the book on how to control a nation, Niccolò Machiavelli be damned.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a mastermind, the devil in a well-pressed suit. He could control anyone with a simple look, make himself out to be the man everyone wishes he was, the man they wish they could be. Handsome, intelligent, powerful. A true leader. Someone that no one would suspect, behind his flawless facade of grace and power, was really the monster from their nightmares.


	49. Home

Maybe one day she would be able to return, go back to the place she called home for so long. It was impossible at this point for she was certain he would never let her leave at the time being. Just a dream.

She sighed as she ran her finger over the tarnished silver of a worn ring. It was the only object she had left that had been from her family. The ring was a gift from her parents for her eleventh birthday, an expensive present for the low-income family but Molly insisted that her little girl deserved it. To remind her of the family she was leaving behind to go to Hogwarts.

Ginny knew she really shouldn't be mulling over the past, try to live during the present but it was so bloody difficult. She didn't want to end up crippled by the memories, leaving herself open to Tom's manipulation and control. But.. everyday she feared that every moment she chose to forget would be the permanent loss of the happy times. Childish, yes, but it still bothered her.

Tom would be upset if he found out about her longing to return to the Burrow, believing she was starting to think of his Manor as her new home. But he was wrong, he was always wrong. This would never be her home.


	50. Freak

**A.N. **Number 50! Halfway done! Sorry for the lack of update yesterday, I did not have access to a computer. Enjoy!

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><p>Tom was a freak. A hideous freak of nature. Mind you this is not a discussion of his physical appearance. No, he knew he was rather attractive. Not that he was vain or anything.<p>

But he was weird, an outcast, strange, quirky, odd. He was far from normal and he _loved _it. Tom loved the stares, the fear in their eyes. He had the ability to make someone break down with a simple look.

Possessing all that a great leader should, Tom knew he was made to succeed. Highly attractive, emotionally closed, almost unnaturally intelligent, cruel and cold. Nothing could stop him from taking his rightful place as the ruler of the world. _Nothing._

Yet... he had one downfall. Ginevra. With a beauty that could rival his own, a burning, fiery personality and the only person he had ever gotten semi-close to, she was the only thing in this world that could cause his fall from power, the only person to ever make him doubt himself. He knew never to get close to anyone but she was under his skin.

Tom was a freak and despite his love for it, he couldn't help but long to be normal.


	51. Burn

The diary before her seemed to call out her name, sticking out from all her other books. It was plain, just a worn black cover filled with multiple yellowing pages but to her, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. She never had a diary before, her brothers got all the blank notebooks for school and her Mum and Dad couldn't afford to buy her a new one like she longed to receive. She wondered how it got in here in the first place, she didn't see her parents buy it. Maybe it was a late birthday gift?

Ginny wanted to write in it so badly but she broke her only quill in the haste and excitement of writing her name on all her new Hogwarts items and her Mum wouldn't let her use her new ones until she got to school. It would be so wonderful once she was able to, she would have something to share her secrets with. Her portable best friend.

The days leading up to September first passed rather quickly and before she knew it, Ginny was at Hogwarts, sorted and everything! She had been placed into Gryffindor, the same house as all her family had been in.

That night she wrote in the diary for the first time, ignoring the burning feeling of her intuition. The diary was her friend, Tom was her friend and he would never hurt her.


	52. Names

**T**errible person

**O**ut to destroy

**M**onster in disguise

.

**A**light with hate

**N**umb from lies

**D**eath is welcome

.

**G**uileless child

**I**n denial

**N**ever knowing

**E**xtracted from home

**V**acant

**R**aw from the pain

**A**ll alone


	53. Brilliance

Silver slivers of light fought their way through the curtains that covered the grand window. It painted an array of shadows on the plain walls, morphing into a different picture every time the curtains shifted.

The soft sound of deep breathing was the only sound heard in the room, quieting all the nighttime fears that haunt her whenever the sun went down. Each breath rang like a mantra in her ears. A nearly silent symphony.

It was truly brilliant, the hope that filled the air as he slept. Ginny thought that it was as though she were caught in a beautiful circle. All the hate of today and tomorrow to be washed away in a single night.

She was the queen, married to the darkness.


	54. Misery

Love is hopeless, love is miserable. Many would look at her funny, calling this _love._ But it was, at least it was Tom's way of showing it. He always had a bizarre way of showing his feelings. Back in the diary he would tell her how pretty she was, how intelligent, how special and how she was the going to achieve great things. Little did she know back then, those great things weren't becoming a famous Quidditch player or a Healer. No, the "great things" she was going to accomplish were to sit around, locked up in a bedroom to play housewife with Tom. Not her dreams coming true.

In her eyes, she supposed she loved him too. She had no choice really, being taken away from her family and the only company for a year was him before she had her first baby. Only then was anyone else allowed to see her. Narcissa Malfoy often visited to help her out, feeling pity for the young girl. Overtime Ginny allowed herself to enjoy spending time with Tom, actually craving his attention. Stockholm Syndrome at its best.

Ginny was in misery, complete and hopeless love with the man who ripped away everything from her life.


	55. Reverse

He hated how he associated with her, the monster that she is. In a snap of her fingers, thousands could be dead. She was young, very young. But of twenty years old. Even Tom was older than her but she was wise beyond her years. It was frightening really.

Ginevra Weasley grew up in a good family, blood traitors, but a nice enough home life. Since she was a young child she despised her parents and brothers, how they treated Muggle and Mudbloods like they were on equal levels with Purebloods such as themselves. Utterly sickening. By the time she hit Hogwarts she used all her time to study every dark book in the school, quite a feat to be able to gain access to it. Her family was shocked that she was placed in Slytherin as she always played the flawless good girl facade at home.

In her fifth year she met him, Tom Riddle, a teacher in training for Defense Against the Dark Arts. They quickly connected but Tom could see the evilness that infected her soul. Now Tom wasn't a good man either, spending his time to see how he could further the Pureblood Supremacy movement. He would get a lot of shit for it, being a Halfblood himself but they were silenced. Tom was a powerful wizard, related to one of the greatest wizards of all time, Salazar Slytherin.

It disgusted him how attracted he was to her at the time, she was only fifteen and he was twenty-two. Not a huge age gap but he still thought of himself as a creep. Their relationship became sexual when she was sixteen, disturbing him further but she was an addiction. Soon she fell pregnant, crying rape, claiming the father was Harry Potter, the only person who suspected that something was off about her. No one questioned why the child had such striking blue eyes, his eyes. They wrote it off as the young baby boy having Arthur Weasley's eyes. The look Potter gave him when he saw the child before being shipped off to Azkaban was pure hate. Harry knew Tom was the father of that baby, being the only man Ginevra would ever associate with.

By eighteen Ginny had figured out what many dark wizards could only dream of figuring out. Learning how to control everyone around her, possessing the ability to cast spells that many would never even begin to accomplish in their whole lifetime.

Here they were now, Ginevra Riddle controlling all of Great Britain. And Tom, Tom loved every moment of it.


	56. Evil

**A.N.** Sorry for the lack of update yesterday, I didn't have access to a computer so here are two to make up for it. :)

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><p>Staring in the reflection of himself in the mirror, Tom smirked. It wasn't in his nature to be... <em>nice,<em> but it was required to gain little Ginny Weasley's trust. And in his humble opinion, he was doing a simply amazing job at it.

She fell for every trick in the book. Him listening to her, acting sympathetic, generally just being there. The young girl never seemed to realize the awful mistake she was making. She never seemed to notice that with every word she wrote, some of her life seeped into the diary. Didn't notice how tired she had become over the past few months.

At first he had come to the conclusion she would die. He would take her life so he could live. But over the past couple of weeks he had thought up a different idea. When the time came to bring her down to the Chamber of Secrets, he would lure Harry down as well, killing him. Yes, he would spare the small redheaded girl he had grown somewhat fond of. She was pretty, quite young but pretty. Also, she was intelligent, powerful, a great asset to his cause in the future.

His smirk grew wider. No, he wasn't completely evil... most of the time.


	57. Stare

He stood in front of her, his chest heaving from running for the past twenty minutes, a furious expression on his face. Ginny was scared, truly frightened of the vicious look he was giving her. She knew he wouldn't listen, wouldn't hear her out. The only reason she was running was to escape the wandering hands of Mulciber. The old man had been giving her the most disgusting leer for the past month and Tom didn't even seem to notice.

Tom took a step closer to her, making her take a step back until her back was pressed against rough bark of a tree. His angry look was replaced by a calm expression as he ran a hand through her dark red locks. She couldn't help but flinch at the contact.

The two remained still for the next couple of minutes, Ginny staring fearfully into the eyes of her captor. He just stared back, matching the intensity of it before a small smile graced his lips, mumbling, "I'll never let you go."


	58. Touch

Tom was never one who enjoyed touching. Being hugged, having a hand resting on his shoulder, anything. It wasn't that he was abused, no he was more neglected than anything, but he just didn't like being so close to someone. It was unnerving.

So it was much to his surprise when he found out he was rather fond of touching someone. Not necessarily in a sexual way, though he did take joy in that as well of course. No, he just fancied being in her presence. She was calming, his rock when she wasn't screaming bloody murder.

That was one thing that angered him to no end, that she didn't like being in his company as he did hers. Perhaps it was because he wasn't the nicest of people to be around initially and with their history he didn't blame her of being wary around him. Tom wasn't an idiot, he knew how normal people worked in a way. He knew that with a traumatic event such as what he inflicted on her in her first year that it would affect her but it had been almost seven years. Shouldn't she have forgiven him by then?

He gave her everything. All he wanted in return was to be able to touch her, kiss her, make her his in all ways but she still cringed every time he tried to feel her smooth skin. Why didn't she love him yet? When she became pregnant for the first time he even let her see her pathetic family. If he was such a ruthless monster he wouldn't have even let her think about them.

No, Tom was a good lover and partner. Good, good, good. One day she would let him touch her, one day.


	59. Petrify

Hermione sobbed as she looked at her best female friend, her boyfriend's little sister. Blood dripped down her face, the result of a beating from one of the Death Eaters, blurring her vision slightly. Ginny looked down at her, her face blank but her eyes apologetic. She wanted to help the Muggleborn but she would be punished if she even dared try.

The older witch knew today was her last day, knew that Harry and Ron were already dead so her final wish was to see the youngest Weasley before she received the Kiss. No, it wasn't death. It was worse.

The Dementor's Kiss would leave her with no soul, nothing to live for. Just an empty shell to be abused for the enjoyment of others. Her captor, Antonin Dolohov, allowed her to see Ginevra after getting permission from her husband and his master. The sight of the once vibrant young teenager, only seventeen years of age, so withdrawn was heartbreaking. Hermione knew she probably was just as closed off as her but she couldn't fathom what the redhead was going through.

She got lucky, no man touched her claiming they wouldn't sully their blood for an ugly Mudblood like her. It was insulting but she didn't care, she didn't have to worry about getting harassed sexually by anyone. Ginny on the other hand, being a Pureblood, a virgin and one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts, captured a lot of attention. Many men wanted her including Rabastan LeStrange, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott and even Lucius Malfoy, who's wife died during a battle in Malfoy Manor against the Order.

Only one man got her, the one man who had her in the palm of his hand since Hermione's second year, Tom Riddle. Her friend had started crying, placing one hand on her pregnant stomach, the other on her the bushy haired woman's shoulder. The fear she was facing was petrifying as she saw the Dementor get closer, Riddle pulling back Ginny. Things would never be the same again.


	60. Birth

Pain racked her body, the pressure between her legs and in her gut almost unbearable. She just wanted this to be over with, wanted to just sleep. Tom offered her no support, merely just staring at her with a weird expression on his face. Thoughtful, proud, possessive and fearful all at once. Of course he would be feeling pride, she was just about to birth his son into the world as he was able to just stand there like an idiot. Normally she would worry that he would hear that, punish her, but at the moment she could care less.

She had been pushing for the past twenty minutes, the Healer ordered to not use magic unless absolutely needed by her loving husband. It was all natural, and it hurt like nothing else. It was as if someone was holding a lighter and burning her. She didn't even want to think of how much longer it would be, the placenta could be just as long to push out.

Eventually the pressure grew stronger, the pain blinding as she gave the final pushes to remove her baby from her body. It's piercing cries made her smile, silent tears falling down her pale, sweaty face. She caught a glimpse of him, still covered in blood and mucus, but he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in the world.

Tom kissed her forehead, his eyes soft, the first real sign of affection he had ever given her as their son quieted down, leaving the room in an almost surreal silence. Everything around her was forgotten for a moment, the sheer happiness of her baby being born the only thing she could think of. Her smile grew seeing Tom hold his child for the first time, a look of poorly concealed joy on his face.

It was the beginning of a new era.


	61. Sugar

He sighed in exasperation, staring at the fiery brown eyes of Ginny in boredom. The young woman had been babbling on about something that he couldn't be bothered to remember for the past two hours and it was getting on his nerves.

"So then Bellatrix called me a whore. Me! A whore! What a bitch! I swear that if I had my wand I'd-"

"Are you done yet? I have better things I should me doing right now," he asked in annoyance. As much as he despised Bellatrix as well, he didn't really fancy hearing about it. Didn't he hire some women to listen to this for him?

"Excuse me?" hissed the petite redhead, standing up and marching over to him, her hands on her hips. "I don't think I heard you."

"Oh, I think you heard me sugar," he retorted. Tom was getting fed up with her new rebellious attitude. Days like today made him wish she was still the cowardly little thing she was when she first arrived at the manor.

"I suggest you apologize right now Tom or else you will be sleeping on the couch for the next month."

He snorted, rolling his eyes as he got up from his chair, walking over to the bar to pour himself a glass of Firewhiskey. "If anyone is going to be sleeping on the floor, it'll be you sugar. It is my bed."

"Don't call me that!"

A smirk formed on his lips, "Don't call you what sugar?"

"That! Don't call me sugar!" Ginny snapped at him.

"Sorry, I'll make not to call you that again... sugar."

"You're insufferable!" his pet growled, storming out of the room.

Tom continued to stare at the empty doorway for a few minutes before shaking his head, a small smile on his face. She was a firecracker. His sweet, sugary little firecracker.


	62. Confusion

A blinding pain in her head made Ginevra Weasley moan, squeezing her eyes shut further in a futile attempt to drown out the agony. She had been laying on the cold floor for the past few hours, or was it days? She couldn't remember.

She knew she was still in the Burrow, she knew this was her basement but it looked different. The warm feeling that once filled it was replaced with a chilling sort of aura. The dreaded unknowing of what was happening. Only a few days ago she was baking cookies with her mum, now she was here, all alone.

When she had first woken up she had tried to call out, see if anyone was out there. After a while she gave up, no one was here. At least no one willing to come down to get her.

The sound of metal on metal made her brown eyes open. Light invaded the room as a tall figure stood in front of her, the unknown person here to either save or break her.


	63. Ocean

It was soothing, the sound of the crashing waves against the rocks. She was tranquil for the first time in months, everything else around her unimportant. Today had been the first day she had been let out of the Manor, the first breath of freedom since her capture.

This was a wonderful surprise, finding out that the place she was forced to live in for so long was so close to the ocean. She had always loved the ocean, even though the water was hardly picture perfect around the beaches she had visited in England.

Ginny longed to dip her feet in the cold water, splash around in it. But sadly it was beyond the wards, so she was forced to just watch or risk severe punishment since Tom would think she was trying to escape. It almost made her laugh sometimes that he was still so paranoid she would leave him. She knew it was fruitless to attempt to leave him, he would always find her.

The sun was starting to set and the redhead knew that her 'supervisor' would be telling her it was time to go soon. Taking one last longing look at the ocean she sighed, maybe one day she would be able to touch it once more. Maybe.


	64. Beauty

_'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,'_ she was always told. What she may view as being simply stunning, another may find it hideous. No one on this earth shared the exact same views as another. Everyone sees things differently.

Some people though, they have an almost unnatural allure about them. Tom was one of them. Many women, if they saw him just walking down the street, would view him as being highly attractive. Every other man around him paling in comparison.

He was the sort of person that you would want to have as a father to your children upon first glance. Possessing intelligence, physical strength, a tall stature and just overly good looking, he would seem to be the perfect man. But of course, that was exactly it, he was only that wonderful upon first glance.

Once you got to know him, you would learn you would want nothing to do with Tom. Yes, he was intelligent, but he used it for all the wrong things. He was strong, but he never used it unless to cause others pain. And one could not forget, he was beautiful but it was all external. Ginny had come to know the true man Tom is, and he could not be uglier.


	65. Piano

The soft melody of the piano flowed throughout the room, it's sound of pure despair creating a haunting atmosphere. It had always been his favourite piece despite the fact that it was written by a Muggle. One thing the Wizarding World had always lacked was good musicians.

Tom learned to play the piano upon the urging of Mrs. Cole. She had always said he had perfect piano fingers and pushed him to take lessons. Sadly, he had no money and could not take them but one day, a week before his eighth birthday, the orphanage received a donation. A worn piano. Tom quickly adopted it as his, threatening any children who dared touch it to unimaginable pain.

No music made it hard for him to learn at first but eventually he was creating his own pieces. When he returned from his first year at Hogwarts he was welcomed with the brittle sheet music of Beethoven's Sonata Pathétique, the song he was playing. It was a struggle to learn it after spending so long without the knowledge of the names of the notes but he was Tom Riddle, he would learn it.

And learn it he did. By his sixteenth birthday he had memorized the popular works of many great composers including Bach, Mozart and of course his favourite, Beethoven.

The piano had always been his secret. No one would ever know his love of the Muggle invention.

No one.


	66. Sun

It was bright, much too bright for his liking. He always dreaded the sunlight, preferring the night instead. How in the world was he ever supposed to concentrate with the blaring light of that blasted giant star? This was why he did most of his work when it was dark. Where he couldn't be seen or noticed so easily.

But of course his pretty little pet had to just _love_ the sun, smiling like it was going out of style every time it came out from behind the dreary British clouds. Every single bloody morning she would rip open the curtains to see if it was out, right at the crack of dawn. Often he found himself despising the overly optimistic young woman. She was a headache disguised in a short redheaded girl.

Looking up from his papers to see his infant son and Ginevra playing in the grass, large smiles on their faces, he couldn't help but not mind the sun, if only for a moment.


	67. Black

Sometimes if she stared into the darkness long enough she could forget where she was. Ignore the damp stone of the Chamber, choose not to notice the life slowly draining from her.

The stinging tears made it hard though. She was so scared, she didn't want to die. It just wasn't fair. He was supposed to be her friend, the one person she could truly lean on when she needed it. Tom had betrayed her and now her life was slipping away and she couldn't stop it.

This wasn't her first time down here. Tom had led her down her before, a huge grin on his handsome face as he showed off his ancestor's accomplishments. Ginny knew this time was different though, he wasn't here to reassure her like before. He was just a ghost before, what she thought was a figment of her imagination. Looking back she realized just how foolish she was.

A part of her hoped, begging and pleading that he would change his mind, let her live. But his heart was black. He would show no remorse nor regret whether she lived or died.


	68. Hero

Harry was always her hero. Throughout her young life she always looked up to the green eyed boy as though he would always end up saving the day from everything that is evil. Since she was ten years old Ginny knew that he was the one for her. He was handsome, smart and an overall amazing person. For a short time his face was replaced in her fantasies with Dean and Michael but only other man ever stood on a similar level to Harry. Tom.

Everything was black and white in her world. To everyone around her, a person had to be either evil or good, but she began to doubt that as she grew older, started to notice the different shades of grey. That was what she always struggled with when it came to her home life, the fact that her family was so closed minded.

After the events in the Chamber, her parents and siblings brushed everything off, claiming she was fine now that she was no longer possessed. It infuriated her that they never noticed her night terrors, the mild panic attacks, the avoidance of journals, the longing to talk to Tom again. She knew she must be sick, wanting to talk to the man who nearly killed her but by her sixteenth birthday she found that she no longer cared.

Staring at the worn black book in front of her, a large, gaping hole in the middle of it, ruining the thing she was treasured the most, she smiled. Ginevra now knew that Harry wasn't the one she always looked up too, sometimes it's the villain that is most appealing.


	69. Plead

Each breath burned her lungs, each bitter take of the cool air. Tears streamed down her frighteningly pale face as she stared into the glowing eyes of the monster before her, eery in the dark. She begged to no one to let her out. There was nothing to plead to, so of course it was left unanswered. Her prayers always went unanswered.

Times like now she just wanted to drift away, fall asleep and never wake up. Never face the fear, the beast that constantly taunts her. She wondered if this is it, all she'll ever accomplish in her life. To be the whore of her enemy. No say, no rights, no hope. Ginny couldn't help but feel bitter about it. Hope was just a fantasy, something just to tie her here when all she wanted to do was leave.

Every drop of water hitting the stone floor screamed violently in her ear. A constant reminder that she was nothing but a prisoner, worthless and replaceable. Tom could always find a prettier, more intelligent, willing partner. He only kept Ginny around to watch her slowly slip away because every moment she lived, a bit of her sanity died.

All she had left for her was the day she died. The day where her pleas finally are answered.


	70. Eyes

**A.N.** Based off the triplets Bianca (stones taught me to fly) and I came up with. :)

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><p>Alcander looked in the mirror, his eyes glazed from a recently smoked joint. He always hated his eyes, something he never shared with anyone before. Blue eyes. Cold, dark blue eyes. Even when he was at his happiest, they still looked cruel. Both of his brothers, Bram and Zale, had them too, inheriting them from their father.<p>

Since he was a small boy he wished that he had his mom's eyes. Her pretty, bright, warm brown irises that were always so loving. Something to be different from his father. His father was a horrible person and Alcander was all too aware of that. No, he was never abused as a child but he saw things that no kid should ever see.

Tom hated him, that he knew. He was the drunk party boy with a woman always hanging from his arm. The disgrace of the family. Even Zale was held in a higher light than him, the dumb oaf who followed mum around like a lost puppy, constantly begging for cake. At least he didn't end up like Bram, a carbon copy of Tom. Evil and controlling, power hungry and ruthless.

Fixing the green tie that he currently had tied around his head, plastering his shaggy black hair onto his forehead and making sure his black shorts weren't going to fall down, he smiled. Mum would be nagging him to put on a shirt and do something productive. Alcander loved his mum with everything he had. She was the only person who made life worth living in the Manor.

He took one last look at his eyes and sneered, scaring himself with how much he resembled Tom. Shaking his head, he walked off with only one thought on his mind: _I need more bloody weed._


	71. Dance

It was only a matter of time until he would come back. She knew he would never leave her, never give up on the girl who stole a piece of him. So simple, so easy to fool everyone around her. Ron, Harry, Hermione; no one noticed a thing wrong with sweet, precious Ginevra Molly Weasley. The innocent little baby, the Gryffindor princess.

Memories of his sharp features and his smooth, pale skin haunted her dreams. Hair as black as night with eyes so blue they could set fire to the earth with a simple glance. Tom was beautiful, so utterly gorgeous it hurt to look.

Harry was complaining, much more angst filled since Sirius' death. _Voldemort has been invading my mind, you have no idea how it feels. _He was a fool. Tom was her everything, the air she breathed. She knew exactly how it felt, if not better.

The graveyard was cool, the icy dew on the grass caressing her feet as she danced. Danced for the dead and the living. Moving to the constant drumming of Tom's heartbeat in her ears, a sickening gleam in her eyes. He would be back, and together they would rule the world.


	72. Lust

It was always a mutual attraction. Since the diary, he knew she would grow up to be a very attractive woman, worth much more than Potter would ever give her. And he also knew that Ginevra thought him to be the most gorgeous man to ever grace this earth. His ego inflated even as he remembered it.

At first that was all it was, sex. Rough, angry, glorious sex. Looking back he was aware that Ginevra cried rape, but of course she eventually would grow to like it. No one could ever resist the charm of Tom Riddle. Once she became pregnant with their sons he realized he had let his guard down. As a child he vowed never to have children but seeing her growing stomach and her glowing skin he decided he had never seen anyone more beautiful.

Of course he was still in lust with her, never love. That was all he desired from her, her willingness in bed. But... he longed to see her pregnant again and desperately craved for those three little words. To know he accomplished what Potter only could ever dream of. That was the only reason he chose Ginevra as his bed mate, because dear Harry wanted her. At least that was what he would tell himself at night.

It would seem Tom was in denial, that he really did care or heaven forbid, _love_ her. But he would spend all of eternity preaching: It's only lust.


	73. Frozen

She stared longingly at the small, wrinkled picture, a small smile on her lips. A tear hit the glossy paper, Ginny sniffling as she tried to wipe it away. The last remaining tie of her old life was too precious to be ruined by her emotions.

Laughing at George and Fred's giant grins, she sat down on a plush chair. How she missed her twin brothers and their humour. They never failed to make her happy. Even Percy would be a welcome change, though he'll always be an obnoxious prat. Nothing could ever sway him to keep his thoughts to himself.

The last she heard was Charlie died by a Death Eater attack in Romania, Bill was in hiding in France with Fleur as well as Fred and George and Ron had gone M.I.A. Although Tom claims it to be true, that Percy joined the Death Eaters, Ginny questioned it. Deep in her mind she knew he would never sink so low or would at least be a spy. But she knew not to voice her opinions to her lovely husband.

Her twelve year old self waved and blew a kiss at her, making Ginny cry a little harder. With all her might she wished she could go back. Yet she knew it was impossible, the picture is only a memory, forever frozen in time.


	74. Go

The young couple glared furiously at each other; deep-seated hate in the girl's eyes, annoyance in the man's. It was always like this, the pair constantly at their throats. Nothing ever changed.

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"I know my darling Ginevra, oh how I know," Tom said dryly, his heated gaze set upon her.

"Don't you _dare _Tom! Don't you dare try and make me seem like the bad guy. You were the one who brought me here. You are the one that forced me to stay," hissed the red haired female, her fists balled up at her sides.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, ready to walk off. "Really? I did not know."

Ginny stomped her foot in frustration as tears pooled in her eyes, her voice cracking as she mumbled,"Don't."

"Don't what?"

She grew even more upset at his obvious sarcasm, her body shaking from the overwhelming emotions. "Don't just act like I'll forgive you in the morning. Don't pretend everything is okay!"

"But everything is okay, love. You're with me," he smiled with a predatory gleam.

"But I don't want to be here. I never did," the young woman said lightly, staring at her socked feet.

"Then go."

Her eyes shot up, studying his blank face. "Pardon?"

"I said; then go."

Ginny's face fell, her body going frigid. She avoided looking at his face as she whispered, "How can I leave when every part of me is here with you?"

Tom smirked at her, pulling her into a hug. And he was never planing on letting her go.


	75. Sleep

**A.N. **Three quarters done! Only 25 more to go. :( Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and/or alerted, it's greatly appreciated. :) Hope you enjoy!

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><p>No one ever told her how hard it would be to find time to sleep with a screaming baby in the house. Especially not three screaming babies. She supposed it would be easier if she just accepted the nanny Tom offered to hire, but the thought of someone raising her children scared her. It didn't matter how they were conceived, they were here now and she couldn't change that.<p>

Sometimes as she watched them sleep, her own eyes drooping in exhaustion, she would let her thoughts wander. Most of them were surrounded around her family, but occasionally a certain nagging thought would come to mind; would she ever be saved?

In a way she already knew the answer, but it helped her keep her sanity by pretending she didn't know. It was easier to hide from the inevitable.

Today was another one of those days, when that dreaded question would not leave her alone, too tired to fight it. Luckily Zale started crying, the others sure to follow his lead. Ginny didn't mind having her children, even though they kept her awake. Her sons kept her sane for another day, and that was all that mattered.


	76. Need

It was truly embarrassing how much she needed him. How much her life depended on him. All her life, she never had to lean on anyone. Ginny could look out for herself. Independent was always one of her most used words when it came to describing herself after all.

But what irritated her the most was that he liked having her rely on him. Tom would do anything in his power to make her _have to_ need him. The thought of it all made her sick to her stomach. To depend so greatly on such a ruthless, evil man such as himself brought shame to her. Shame to her entire family and everyone she knew.

Although she tried to convince herself that it wasn't her fault, that Tom gave her no choice in the matter, she knew that it was indeed all her doing. Ginny sealed her fate the moment that diary was opened and it was something she could never take back.

Until the end of time, Ginevra Riddle will forever be his. In Tom's opinion, that was all she needed.


	77. Grasp

**A.N. **Today is my 17th birthday! :) I shall celebrate with the world with another T/G drabble. :P

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><p>Determination was constantly on his mind. To have her, make her his. It was getting difficult to just watch from afar. Each day that passed was another day closer to when she'd give herself up to Potter. He tried to be patient, waiting nearly a year now since his arrival to 1996 from 1952. Biding his time to pick the perfect moment to finally have her in his grasp.<p>

The Death Eaters were easy to win over after he took down his older 'self'. Their old leader was not him in Tom's opinion, Voldemort was just a crazy man, far too gone in his search for power that he didn't realize all his downfalls.

No, the hard part was going to be capturing her heart like he did in the diary. Make her depend on him, all memories of Potter gone. Tom was all she needed, it would just take some convincing for her to see that. Ginevra was a stubborn girl and she would not be easily won over. He always admired that in her. It became tiresome being around those who would cut off their own limbs just to please him. Tom wanted a person with a backbone, which his little pet certainly has.

It was only a matter of time now. Soon she would be with him, forever.


	78. Flowers

**A.N. **Sorry for the lack of update yesterday. I'd say I had a valid excuse, but sadly I don't. I kinda just forgot. :P Anyway, I'm posting two to make up for it. Enjoy!

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><p>He twirled a red rose between his fingers, staring at his wife sitting in the yard from the balcony with his eyebrows furrowed. It was the last flower from the garden, the rest died off from the frost. Yes, Tom supposed he could have charmed the flowers to live, but he wasn't one to mess with nature. There were multiple things he would change, but the earth was not one of them.<p>

Ginevra had been good over the past few weeks, not openly defying him. She still her thoughts but she was smartening up, not acting it out. The rose was simple, but she always preferred simple things, disliking the over the top jewelry and clothing he would buy for her. Deep in his mind Tom knew that the flower wouldn't change anything, wouldn't make her love him, but he would try. The small things would add up eventually.

Walking down the stairs, he entered the garden with the rose behind his back. Ginevra was sitting on a stone bench by one of the many fountains, toying with a fallen leaf. She jumped when he put his free hand on her shoulder, causing her to drop the leaf and turning to look up at him. Tom offered her one of his rare smiles, handing her the rose. Looking at him in shock, she hesitantly accepted it, in awe of the gift.

Tom kissed the top of her head, turning on his heel and heading back to the Manor. Ginny's soft voice rang after him, a timid quality to it. "Thank you."

He smirked, sauntering into the house. Small things add up indeed.


	79. Lie

A little white lie was all it took. Just a simple bending and removal of words and she was in the palm of his hand. She believed him immediately, never daring to question. Ginevra learned the hard way never to question anything he tells her. It was merely common sense for her now.

And how simple she made it, putting her faith in him. Tom could get away with anything and she would be none the wiser. She was far too entranced by the untrue sentence that nothing mattered anymore. It didn't matter how badly he abused her, how many people he killed, how deceitful he actually is. No, all that mattered was what he said. The simple statement would wash away everything else.

Perhaps it was Stockholm Syndrome setting in that made her so easy to manipulate. Five years basically isolated with someone changes you. For Ginny, it was not for the better. Tom was one that could never make a person better. He wouldn't give them the opportunity.

Yet there was only one real answer as to why she fooled herself into believing his sweetly coated words. Ginny was always looking for that open door and this was her one chance to pretend she found it. A simple 'I love you' was all it took.


	80. Pure

She was contaminated. Unclean, filthy and tainted. He ruined her, destroying the innocence she once knew. It hurt knowing that she couldn't go back, never repair what has been done to her. The constant strangling of invisible hands on her throat making it unforgettable, her mind cruelly taunting her with the images of it all.

Of course Tom would be oblivious, too wrapped up in his own pleasure to care. Not that he would in the first place. He didn't even give a second thought about the pain and anguish she was feeling. All that mattered to him was that he finally had her. Nothing mattered to him. He didn't care how many times she cried for him to stop, her begging to be returned to her family. Even death seemed like a glorious replacement for her current life. Yet she knew that this was permanent, she was here to stay.

Occasionally he would offer her a calming or pain relieving potion, but often times not. In a way she knew he enjoyed her screams, liked her tears, loved her resistance, but she would still fight. Hoping that one day he would would feel guilt, let her go. Wishful thinking of course, Tom Riddle has no conscience.

He had her last tie of her childhood, broken on the overly large bed. Tom took away every last pure thing about her, something she would never get back.


	81. Dream

When she was a young girl, every night she would fall asleep and dream of world where she was a queen. All the planet would love her, Queen Ginevra. She would abolish all things pertaining to blood prejudice and create ties with the Muggle World. Health care would be free, families with low income would get extra money to help support their kids and everyone would be happy.

Alas, it was only just a dream. When she grew older she found her wishes of a bright future were unrealistic. The Ministry of Magic just didn't have the money to support her ideas nor did she think that the Wizarding world in the United Kingdom would appreciate increased taxes to pay for it all.

But years later, after being forced to be with Tom, she realized she did have a high status now. Tom was the ruler of the entire world now, both Wizarding and Muggle. He controlled everything and everyone.

Yet she knew that her ambitions were never going to come true, despite being the wife of the earth's only superpower. Her husband was a ruthless man and he would make sure her dreams would only stay dreams. He never liked to share the limelight, and she was no exception. Everything was about him and it would always stay that way.


	82. Games

Life was only a game for Tom and it had a certain set of rules that must always be obeyed:

1) Show no weakness. If anyone sees you in a state of momentary vulnerability then it will set you back... far. Everyone loses respect for a leader who is emotionally or physically weak.

2) Always let someone else do your dirty work. In case of potential prosecution, the one who did the real killing/raping/torturing or another similar offense will be the one who fill face the consequences, not you. But upon good outcomes, take the credit.

3) Feel nothing for those around you. Love or hate, it does not matter, either can get you killed.

4) Rule with an iron fist. If you let anyone walk all over you, chaos is sure to follow.

5) Fear is a good thing. But it only pertains to those around you never yourself. Be spontaneous. Give them something to fear, keep them in line.

6) Know your limits. Don't try to push yourself too hard or try to achieve the unachievable. It will only end in failure.

7) Strength in numbers. Build yourself a well trained group of faithful followers. No one can conquer what you refuse to let them have and a well trained army will show that.

8) Conceal your intentions. Never let anyone know what you are planning. They will use it against you.

9) Timing is everything. A second can determine your fate; always choose the perfect moment. Leave nothing to chance

10) Be what others want to see. Don't come off as completely perfect, mold yourself into the fantasy of others.

11) Play yourself down. Never let anyone see how capable you are.

12) Trust no one. Anyone can easily become an enemy. Keep everything to yourself.

13) Crush the opponent. Completely eliminate the completion. Make sure there are no chances for revival.

14) Reputation is key. Nothing must tarnish it, so guard it with your life.

15) Plan until the end. Since day one you should have already planned for the future. Everything must be done accordingly; nothing must be left until the last moment. You must know where you will be and when, even thirty years from now.

If anyone one of these fifteen rules were ever broken, Tom would fall from grace. The world relied on him, no matter how much they may hate it. Losing the game is not an option. He will win at any cost. And _nothing _can stand in his way.


	83. Devil

**A.N. **A longer drabble for you all. :) Hope you enjoy!

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><p>It was no secret that Tom was not a good man. Many would go as far as saying he is downright evil. He did not care for the well being of others, only his own issues mattered, everyone else be damned. They were just pawns in his mind; a means to an end.<p>

Harry knew from the moment he entered the Wizarding world that Tom was a cruel person. He killed his parents and many others, possessed the love of Harry's life and almost murdered her as well. Tom was a horrible person, but it wasn't until Harry was seventeen that he saw just how awful he truly was.

Wizards and Witches from all over the United Kingdom were celebrating the death of Voldemort; the crazed man dead from Harry's wand. Hogwarts lay in ruins, the dust just starting to settle but everyone was too happy, despite the death of many, to care. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was finally gone! Never to return! No one knew how wrong they were.

It was only moments after Voldemort had fallen, those who were left alive from the Light side cheering in joy, the Death Eaters making one last attempt to switch sides or flea. Harry was ecstatic, he was finally free from the never ending pain of not knowing whether today was his last day or not. He was going to propose to Ginny and they would be married a few years down the road, a small wedding. Afterwards they would have two or three kids, named after those they lost in the War. His life was finally going to be peaceful. All would be well.

But, a man emerged from the the rubble and dust. His black hair gently moving from the wind, a smirk on his almost unnaturally handsome face. The tall blue eyed person, roughly twenty-five or so, came closer, the crowd behind Harry growing silent in confusion surrounding the well-dressed mystery man. He leaned down, grabbing the wand from Voldemort's dead body and grinned wolfishly as he held it, like he had not been in contact with a wand for ages. In a matter of seconds, the man was at Harry's throat, Voldemort's wand digging painfully into his skin. The retreated Death Eaters apparating into the crowd, distracting them as the battle started up again.

"Hello Potter."

Harry froze, recognizing the deep, silky voice, cursing himself for not realizing who the man before him was sooner. "Tom."

Time seemed to slow down, the screams dying as Dolohov ran to Tom's side, Ginny in tow, her brown eyes wide in fear.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, darling Ginevra," Riddle spoke smoothly, setting his predatory gaze on her. "You have certainly grown up since I saw you last. So beautiful now."

She whimpered, staring directly in Harry's eyes, silently pleading; the wand in his neck a painful reminder of what he could not do.

"Well Potter, we must be going now. Ginevra and I have some... catching up to do," Tom said, pulling her flush against his him.

He gave him a cruel smirk, implying all the things that he could not stop. The last thing Harry remembering before the flash of bright green was Tom forcing Ginny into a bruising kiss.

Tom isn't just evil. No, he's devil himself.


	84. Blood

**A.N. **Sorry for it being kinda late. It's not quite midnight where I live yet and I was going to update sooner but wasn't allowing me to upload anything. Anyway, enjoy!

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><p>Tom stared at the door, his heart pounding violently in his ears. He swore for a moment that someone tried to enter the washroom and hid the small knife behind his back, ignoring the blood dripping from his fingertips to the floor.<p>

In his eyes, it wasn't self-harm. He didn't have some depressing reason as to why he did it. No _it makes me feel something _or _it takes the emotional pain away._ No, Tom only would hurt himself to see blood. The rich, thick, dark red blood that slowly oozes from an open wound. Ridding himself of his dirty Muggle heritage. That was all he desired.

Since he was about twelve or so, he had made this a ritual. Enter the washroom, lock the door, take the knife and do the necessary cut and watch the blood flow. No one ever noticed, nor did he think anyone would really care but he was still nervous. To have someone see him in such a fragile state would be his worst nightmare come true. Tom was never weak around others and he was planning on keeping it that way.

He stood still for a moment, just listening to the ringing silence. It was safe. The black haired teenager looked at his injured arm and cursed under his breath. The bleeding had stopped. Cleaning up the mess he made, Tom tiptoed his was back to his dorm room, preparing as quietly as possible for bed. Another day was over, another small step towards his purification gained.


	85. Leave

Taking one last look at his home for the last eighteen years, Tom smirked. He was finally free. No more Amy Benson, Dennis Bishop or anyone of those pathetic Muggles who ever tried to tease him. After he started Hogwarts no one attempted anything since he made it very clear what would happen if they dare tried, but the orphanage was still hell. He was forced to stay with those dirty blooded freaks and that itself was torture.

But he was eighteen now and had just graduated Hogwarts as Head Boy and had the highest marks in the year. Despite being offered multiple jobs at the Ministry of Magic, he declined, instead taking a job at Borgin and Burkes. Many thought it was an idiotic move, but he wouldn't get to be where he desires to be sitting around a desk all day, taking orders from those Ministry fools. No, at his new job he would have access to all the dark objects he could ever want. It was perfect.

The large clock on the wall in the front foyer struck seven pm. His portkey, a ceramic snake, was set to leave in only two minutes. Tom looked at the dreary walls for the last time, gripping the small white serpent and laughed, startling some of the younger children who were poorly trying to cover up that they were watching him. It was time to leave and he was never planning on coming back.


	86. Win

Watching as the old, hideous man fell to the ground, dead, was one of his most prideful accomplishments. It was so damn easy, let the older version of himself do all the work then take it all from him. Life was simple when you get others to do everything for you.

His next most shining moment happened a few years later. Harry Potter, bleeding out on the dirt with no hope of surviving. It was exhilarating. The boy who caused him so much trouble over the years was finally gone, never to come back. Almost nothing could compare to the amazing sense of power that came with it. To know he was at the top of the world. Nothing could compare to it but one; no, a multitude of things.

Tom Riddle's biggest accomplishment overall was the day he finally claimed Ginevra as his own. She was the best thing that ever happened to him. Ginevra birthed him many children, needed him like no other and a nice bonus was that she was quite the... firecracker in bed. She was simply perfect. Despite the attempts at 'saving' her, Tom always prevailed. No one could take away his only moments of happiness from him, especially not Ginevra or his children.

Many tried to break down Tom, watch him fail and lose everything. But they would never be successful, Tom always wins. Always.


	87. Prison

**A.N. **I would just like to thank nameofthewind for the wonderful review. It made my day. :) And of course thanks to Crystal Bluebell. I just adore reading your reviews. Thanks so much! :)

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><p>He was treated worse than the other prisoners. Only two pieces of borderline moldy bread, a tiny slab of flavourless and unknown meat and water. Nothing else. His stomach growled as he tried to see through the tiny window on the door of his cell. No food had been given today and he thought he was about to pass out from hunger. Once he had attempted to duplicate the food he was given, but found out the cell must have multiple wards and charms over it; no magic allowed to be cast in it.<p>

They were keeping him here, toying with him until he goes insane. The Death Eaters captured him a few months ago and they were overjoyed that their master was letting them torture him to their hearts desire. Of course they weren't allowed to kill him, and forced them to leave his legs alone. Riddle wanted him to be able to walk.

Looking back now he realized just how foolish he was, attempting to sneak into Malfoy Manor to find out the location of Riddle. Ron and Hermione died because of him and now his death was in the cards now too. Ginny was taken too. He cringed at the thought of what Riddle was doing to her. He remembered all the crude things Tom whispered into his ear down in the Chamber of Secrets about what he was going to do to her when he killed him. Ginny was merely a distraction tool to lure him down there so he could be killed and Tom resurrected. She was never meant to die. No, Tom had other more horrifying plans for her. He never heard much about her, just the odd overheard conversation between Lucius and Bellatrix. The last thing he had heard them talking about was that Riddle had announced her pregnancy. He hoped with all his might it was just a ploy to rile him up.

Looking around at the prison cell, he couldn't help but feel completely helpless. No one was coming to save him, rescue him from his inevitable death. No, Harry was going to die down here and he knew there was nothing he could do to change that.


	88. Silence

Her brothers were always more important than her. Bill was the attractive one, Charlie the Quidditch star, Percy the intelligent one, Fred and George were the pranksters and Ron was the youngest and friends with the great Harry Potter. They were important and well loved, unlike her. Everyone forgot about Ginny.

Even though her two oldest brothers had moved out and the others were at Hogwarts, she was still put on the back burner. Little Ginny Weasley was just there to be the adorable child. Silent and smiling; never speaking unless spoken to. Her brothers were to be the loud, significant ones, never her.

With all her might she longed for a friend and companion. She would do anything to have one. The Muggle children who lived near by didn't like to play with her very much, thinking her to be weird. No magical kids lived near by so all she had were her family. It didn't help much that she was lost in the background, forced to watch her brothers enjoy life while she just stared longingly in silence.

Hogwarts could not come fast enough for the ten year old. There she would make friends and enjoy her first year, make a name for herself. No longer would be the little Weasley girl, wallowing in the shadows. She would be Ginevra Weasley, the best thing to ever hit Hogwarts.

The thought made her smile. Yes, Ginny was going to make sure her first year would be a memorable one.


	89. Clouds

One of the worst things about living in England were the clouds. It was much easier to count how many sunny days there were in a year compared to cloudy ones, something that drove Ginevra absolutely crazy. She loved the sun, not those dreaded clouds.

Of course her husband of nearly thirty years would disagree. Tom absolutely loved clouds and despised the sun. Perhaps that was why he was so pale, avoiding all sunlight like it would kill him. He would claim that they had more than enough money to avoid doing common things outside but Ginevra knew the truth. He just hated anything happy. Tom was quite the pessimist.

The permanently youthful woman frowned as she looked outside for the sixth time in an hour, hopefully awaiting for the darned sun to poke out of the clouds. Alas, she has had no luck. It was getting quite tiresome having to constantly face such dreary weather. Even her now grown children who agreed with their father on his opinion of the weather were growing restless. They wanted a change of pace but Mother Nature had a different idea.

You would think that with all the galleons anyone could ever dream of that Tom possessed, they could simply move to a warmer climate or create and cast some sort of weather changing charm, but no. He would not allow it. After all the years she has lived with him, he rarely would acknowledge her mumbling. The few times he would pay attention would be if she was pregnant, a man tried to touch her or she was just asking for something simple like jewelry. Besides that, everything was ignored.

She knew she was being silly, but she just wanted some sunlight for once. Something other than those stupid bloody clouds.


	90. Fallacy

"_Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it." -_William Shakespeare. (Macbeth. 1.5. 64-65)

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><p>It was almost frightening how easily people could be manipulated into thinking a seemingly obvious lie is the truth. Hogwarts was the perfect example. Every student and almost every professor in the entire school loved him. He was the perfect person. He did extraordinarily well academically, was a good Samaritan and did everything that was expected of him and more. Tom Riddle was one the best students Hogwarts had ever seen. Or... at least that was what they thought.<p>

Tom Riddle was not a good person, nor had he ever made any attempt to try. It was far simpler to play the perfect rule-abiding man than to actually be one. He enjoyed being the monster of a child's nightmare, the bump in the night. He was the kind of man that a mother would warn her young to avoid at all costs; yet he had children coming up to him and smiling, thanking him for saving the school from Aragog and asking how to be as good and kind as of a Wizard as he. It was almost difficult not to laugh at them, knowing just how wrong they were, caught up in the fallacy he created.

All Tom had to do was plaster a fake smile on his face and spout out a few lies and the world was eating from the palm of his hand. They were too enthralled by what they wanted to see from him to realize that he was not the protecting shield they desired, but the blade that pierces it.


	91. Muggle

Hitler had just been defeated and the university was in celebration as was the rest of the city of London. It still lay in ruins, not quite recovered from The Blitz; thirty thousand dead including Tom's father, but it did not matter. Germany lost and the war was over.

Merope, his mother, was still distraught over Tom Senior's death and refused to leave the house to join the festivities. Tom went, pleased that despite being drafted, he never had to leave the United Kingdom. It was a joyous occasion and he would be damned if his suicidal mother would ruin it. He really couldn't see why she was so upset, his father never much cared for her. Tom knew he only stuck around because of him. The Riddle family would be shamed if there was another illegitimate heir. His grandfather produced enough of those already.

As he walked down the street in his perfectly pressed outfit, he noticed a large amount of funny looking people in robes celebrating as well. Tom supposed they chose to dress oddly in rebellion and decided not to give them much mind. But as he continued to walk, more and more of the bizarre people were appearing. He heard them whispering furiously about some person named _Grindelwald_ as well as _Dumbledore. _Once again he shrugged the people off, ignoring the odd names and kept on heading towards the large gathering in downtown where the celebration were being held.

A young boy ran up to him and smiled as he rambled on about how Grindelwald was finally dead and the Wizarding world could finally rest in peace. Tom was taken back. Wizarding world? The child was young, too young to be abusing drugs. Perhaps he was delusional? But... Grindelwald was mentioned by multiple men and women in the robes. Maybe he was an accomplice of Hitler or somehow related to Nazi Germany. Yet what did the 'Wizarding world' have to do with it. What was the Wizarding world?

"Oi! You!" he called out to a pretty red haired girl in a set of emerald green robes. Tom was set on learning about the Wizarding world but lost his ability to think for a moment when he caught sight of her. The girl wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful. She ran over to him with a giant grin on her face, embracing him in a hug. He stumbled back a bit, awkwardly patting her back after she refused to let him go. Seconds seemed to drag on before she let go, the sweet smell of her dark auburn hair invading his nostrils.

Just as Tom opened his mouth to ask her what her name was, a burly man with a similar shade of hair stomped over to them. "Ginevra! Come on, we shouldn't even be out. The Muggles are going to become curious."

The young girl waved and ran off with what Tom assumed to be her brother before he had a chance to stop her; all thoughts about the Wizarding world and the end of World War Two gone. Her name was Ginevra. Turning around to head home, he smirked. He was planning on finding that girl again and next time, he wasn't planning on letting her run off.


	92. Air

Begging to visit her family was a pointless task. Tom wouldn't budge; he knew he would just be back at square one if he said yes. Ginevra was just starting to accept that she was his and she was never going to leave, but seeing her family would surely set off the defiance he worked so hard to kill.

It didn't make sense to him either. They had a few children and he had a select few that were allowed to talk to her. She refused to see them as friends but Tom thought that the other Death Eater wives were nice enough. She was just too stubborn to realize it.

They were already a family. So why did she want to see those filthy blood traitors? That was something he couldn't understand. He saved her from them, from getting raped by multiple men and sold off to a lecherous old man to bear thirty children because they were Blood Traitors. Yes, Tom knew he wasn't the most pleasant person to be around, especially when she first arrived and was screaming and crying all the time. She still had a few scars from his anger. Tom hated it when she cried and yelled at him.

Perhaps that was why he was giving it so much thought, letting her see her old family. Ginevra rarely cried anymore but a few days ago she did for the first time in nearly a year. They were silent tears, something that hit Tom harder than her loud sobs. He made the mistake of asking her what got her so damn upset. As usual she went on to rant about how badly she missed them and she would be fine just to look, not actually talking to them. But... she went on. Her last few sentences affected him more than anything she ever thought or mentioned to him.

Ginevra looked him dead in the eye, her own bloodshot and glassy. It was barely even a whisper when she finally spoke again. "They were my life Tom, my air. I haven't lived in over five years. I just want to be alive again, just once more."

She left without another word, leaving Tom to face all that he had done. He felt no guilt, yet he couldn't help but sympathize with her. He spent seventy years without air, without her.


	93. Die

**A.N. **So I doubt anyone even got to read my author's note that I deleted but I got a computer virus and I lost everything so this is a re-write. I tried to make it as close to the original as possible but I wrote it a while ago. Excuse any errors since I wrote this in ten minutes. Thanks a bunch and hope you enjoy! :)

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><p>Clutching the small cube-shaped object in his hand, Tom sighed. He was positive he was making a huge mistake by leaving something as important as this up to chance. He never left anything up to chance before in his life and realistically, this wasn't the best time to try it. Yet he knew this was one of the few moments in his life that he will be able to do this, so he might as well take it.<p>

It was nearly four in the morning, but he he was wide awake. Today was finally the day and sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. This was the day that he had been anticipating for years and he'd be damned if something like sleep would hold him back from remembering every moment of it. It wasn't as if he felt tired either, he had plenty of time to rest once he had her. Today was something he was going to savour, try to memorize every single moment because in the future he was going to want to see if he made a grave mistake or this was all a wonderful idea.

Soon he would have to gather his Death Eaters up, prepare them for the battle ahead. Everything could go smoothly and not one person would be harmed or it could end up being a bloody massacre. Even Tom wasn't quite sure. That was why he had to do it now, forget everything about being meticulous and just go on a whim. Time was slipping away and he needed to make a decision.

Curling his fingers around the tiny possession, he began to flick is wrist back and forth, shaking the object around. After an internal countdown, he threw it onto the eerily plain table. He waited a moment until looking at the number on the die; three. Only eleven hours away. Tom stood up with a smirk on his face. It was time to get ready to claim his Ginevra.


	94. Trust

She trusted him, _trusted,_

But he threw it all away.

(As always)

Crushing her **heart,**

breaking her m i n d,

Taking every last bit of her.

Now she was gone,

_gone, gone_

**GONE.**

Everyone left her.

(She left them.)

Left her to be bound,

stuck to a man,

stuck to **him.**

They began one.

She was _him,_

He was H E R.

An _empty_ shell,

of what she u s e d,

to **be**.

She trusted him.

(What a silly mistake)

She trusted him,

and now she's

**D E A D.**


	95. Immortality

This was never her choice, never her decision. She never wanted to live forever, watch everyone she ever loved die while she got to stay behind. That was something she never wanted to experience, but Tom didn't care. He was too selfish to let her have a say in her own life. This was his to decide.

In a way she was thankful that he at least was going to do the same to their children as he was going to do to her. It was one thing to learn of her parents and brothers death, people she hadn't seen in years; but it was another thing to watch her own kids, her flesh and blood that she carried for nine months and raised, die. Ginny knew that would be something she could never handle. They were his objects, his possessions though, and Tom would never want to give them up. That was the only reason why he decided to have them join the ranks of the immortal.

No, it wasn't as if they were to be bitten by a vampire, this was much easier. All he had to do was give them a potion, cast a spell, and they would live forever. Blindingly simple really. But it was still all too much for her. Letting him do that to her would be letting him cut off the final tie to everything she used to know. Sometimes she thought he was doing it all just to mock her. Make her see that this is all real, she was his and that was never going to change. Ever.

Hundreds of years from now she would decide that her immortality isn't a curse, but still not a blessing. It would take several lifetimes for her to finally accept that this was it. That she was always going to be stuck with everything. Stuck with Tom, stuck with herself.


	96. Obsession

There has always been a thin line between love and obsession; the two often being mistaken for one another. Most would deny that they have ever spent countless hours obsessing over a person or thing, but Tom was not one of them. He openly admitted that this was an obsession, not love. Ever since the diary, he had been completely enthralled by her.

It got worse as time dragged on, nearly reaching his breaking point by the time he finally captured Ginevra. All his thoughts were surrounding her when they really should have been focusing on bringing down Potter. But he didn't care. No, he wanted her and he was going to have her. If that meant losing a few Death Eaters in some poorly thought out raid, so be it. Ginevra was his top priority.

After she was finally his, things cooled off a bit. He was back to being the ruthless tyrant he always was, but things got worse in another sense. One would thing he would have these worries before he abducted her, but instead they surfaced now. Tom was extremely pleased that she was a virgin when he took her the first time, casting multiple fidelity charms on her to make sure she stayed only his. Yet... he couldn't help but fear that while he was away from her, another man was touching his property. The thought alone made his blood boil. He pushed down the worry though and he moved on like always.

When she fell pregnant with their first child, all those anxieties washed away. His Ginevra would know that it would be a death sentence for her and his child if she dared try to _cheat. _Of course, that wasn't necessarily true. Tom loved his unborn baby in a way and he had spent far too much time on Ginevra to ever let her go that easily, but they didn't need to know that.

But things got worse once again after their son was born. Everything he managed to suppress for those nine months came right back up after he was born. Her hips had widened and breasts became fuller after birthing his baby and he could see the lust in his followers eyes when they looked at her. Constantly he would fly into jealous rages about them, too blind in his fury to see Ginny's sad smile. Not even realizing that she was begging him to see that she would never want another man the way she wants him.

Yes, after being stuck with him for over a year, Ginny was falling in love with Tom. Perhaps it was because he was the only company she had or maybe that he turned out to be a good father to her baby, but it happened. She was in love with her captor. Or... at least she hoped that it was love.

Indeed, there had always been a thin line between love and obsession; both are blinding and both can be a very cruel mistake.


	97. God

This was always the life that was meant for him. Millions at his feet, kissing the very ground he walked on, in awe of being able to see him. It was a great honour to be in his presence at all, many would kill just to get a glimpse of him and this was the way Tom wanted to keep it. Him, a God, and the world at his fingertips.

The rebel armies strongly disagreed; Tom was no almighty power. He was just a weak man, abusing his magic to fool Muggles into believing that he was some sort of God, forcing them into what could only be described as slavery. They didn't seem to care though, too entrapped by his abilities to even consider that he is a fraud, that he could care less about them. Tom was no God, he was but a monster.

Tom couldn't bring himself to care about the opposing forces though. They were in exile and couldn't bring any sort of harm to him, not when a majority of the world were willing to do anything to please him. There was no real threat anymore to him after Potter died a few years back, dead at his hand. Tom was even willing to keep him alive, a rare gesture, but scarhead blew it. He tried to save his precious ex-girlfriend from big, bad Tom, five years after he had already claimed her. Yes, Tom kidnapped Potter's love from right under his nose ten years ago. Raped her and stole her virginity right in front of him and forced her to carry his heirs, all because he could.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, whatever you wish to call him, was at the top of the food chain. He was a God, a Deity, the most powerful thing to ever grace this earth; and that was never going to change.


	98. Youthful

The original reason why he chose to have his body resemble a snake so closely was because he knew it would strike fear in the hearts of others. He was truly hideous, a shadow of his former self and he loved it... at first.

As time carried on he realized that he was making a mockery of the only good genes to ever come from his dirty-blooded father. A mockery of himself. Yes, people feared his snake-like body but they also viewed it as being somewhat typical. It was so common for a monster to look scary which infuriated Tom because of his foolishness. What would truly scare people is not the frightening boogieman, ugly and deformed; no, the thing that would shock people the most is for the monster to be _attractive. _To look like the type of man that school girls gush about in the hallways, to look like his twenty-something year old self.

It took nearly a year, only eighteen months after his new body was restored, but he finally had a potion to make him look youthful again. The potion worked over a span of a week and it was excruciatingly painful but after those seven days were over, he looked like his twenty-five year old self. It was right before he became completely obsessed with the Dark Arts, before his looks began to fade. The best part of looking young again was that no one recognized him except those from his school years and a select few besides that.

Another bonus was that since he was physically at the prime of his life and not in his late sixties like his mind, he was back to being a virile young man which sparked a new idea. He wanted an heir. There were many women who would willingly carry his child (Bellatrix practically begging him) but there was only one girl he had in mind; little Ginny Weasley. Not only had she grown up to be a rather beautiful young woman but she was a Pureblood as well as the love interest of Harry Potter. What could be more perfect than taking away one of the few things Potter cared about and making her his.

His resurrected youthfulness brought on a new era for Lord Voldemort, for Tom Riddle. And this time, he was going to make sure Harry Potter would lose _everything._


	99. Ignorance

There were signs everywhere, but she chose to ignore them. She chose not to see what was right in front of her and in the end, it was a huge mistake. He was toying with her, giving her more than enough clues to put it all together and give her a chance to run, yet she didn't.

The first time she noticed something was amiss was around October of her fifth year while at Hogsmeade with Dean. She saw a man with a dark hood over his face following her and her boyfriend around the village from the corner of her eye. He never tried to approach them, just watched. It left her feeling rather unnerved but she brushed it off, just making sure to stay in public. All thoughts were washed away when news hit about Katie Bell being cursed.

Small things like a few of the younger Slytherins always keeping an eye on her or sudden feelings of being watched happened over the course of the year, getting progressively worse when she started dating Harry. It eased up a bit after they broke up but she knew in the back of her mind that someone was always following her every movement.

Summer time hit and things cooled down even more, but occasionally she would wake up in the middle of the night, swearing she saw a shadow of a man but when she blinked, he was gone. Looking back she could have slapped herself for not telling anyone. Maybe if she had, she wouldn't be in the situation she is in now.

By the time her sixth year started, all the feelings of being watched were gone. Besides, she was too concerned about Harry, Hermione and Ron surviving. There had been no signs of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for months, but Harry insisted that he was just laying low and they had to destroy the horcruxes as soon as possible.

Everything was fine until October the twenty-seventh, exactly a year after the the Hogsmeade trip with Dean. Things had gotten particularly bad at Hogwarts and Ginny just wanted to escape for a moment and it was late in the evening, so she had managed to sneak her way through the tunnel from the Room of Requirement to Aberforth Dumbledore's pub in Hogsmeade without being caught. All she had wanted to do was just leave the castle for a just a short while, but instead of meeting Aberforth at the end of the tunnel, there stood Tom Riddle with a wicked smirk.

It all pieced together in those few seconds before he grabbed her, apparating away and sealing her fate. In the end, it was her own ignorance that cost her her freedom.


	100. Closure

**A.N. **This is it, the last drabble. It's been an amazing 100 days and I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted and/or favourited this as well as those silent readers. I hope everyone enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them and this ending lives up to your expectations. Thank you once again and enjoy! :)

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><p>The light breeze softly hit her skin; her dark red hair brushing against her cheek. It was a surprisingly nice day out, the sun shining bright but not too warm. She supposed this was the way her parents would have wanted it. A beautiful day to reflect all the goodness of their lives. It was still all too surreal though, staring down at the graves of her long deceased family while she still barely looked a day over twenty.<p>

Her husband didn't even know where she was, thinking her to be off at Astoria Malfoy's two hundredth birthday celebration. The woman was near her death bed but her great-grandson had decided that they should at least throw a small party. Ginny never much cared for large gatherings of old, bitter women so she had slipped away early to go see her family from what felt like a past life. Or... what was left of them.

All of her brothers had died during the war but Bill, who has passed away about a hundred and twenty years ago. Her parents lived for the longest, Arthur just passing away fifty-two years ago and Molly forty-nine. She hadn't seen them since she was sixteen years old nor could she remember the last time she even talked to them. Tom made sure to keep it that way.

Tom. The man she was forced into marriage with, the man who tormented her since she was eleven years old. At night she used to cry when he was asleep, hating him for ruining her life. At first he was horribly protective. It wasn't until their fourth child was born that she was able to leave the manor without him; even then she needed a body guard and wasn't allowed her wand. As time went on, he granted her more freedoms. Soon she was able to go shopping in Diagon Alley without his verbal permission. It wasn't all bad living with him. He never really hit her except for the earliest days of her capture. Eventually she grew to accept and even enjoy the sex as well.

The graveyard was completely empty, void of all living people but her. Ginny was not complaining, she enjoyed the serenity of it all. Her alone time was soon put to a stop as she heard footsteps approach her. She didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.

The eternally youthful pair stood there, at ease in the silence; the only noise coming from the rustling leaves of a tree. It remained so for what felt like hours to Ginny. Perhaps it was that long as when she finally spoke, the sun had already started to set.

"I miss them."

Tom turned to look at her, gazing into her brown eyes with his own blue ones that Ginny had grown so very fond of. He didn't sneer nor make a cutting remark like he would have in the past. He only said,"I know."

Ginny wrapped her hands around his torso, resting her head against his shoulder, letting the calming atmosphere wash over her. Tom tilted her face up, asking her a silent question. Ginny nodded and the two slowly started to walk away but not before Ginny paused to kiss each of the worn grave stones. As they were walking, Ginny couldn't help but let the tiniest of smiles creep up on her face. She was finally content with her life.

Fin.


End file.
